How To Tame The Untamable
by The DuTchess of Doom
Summary: When maneater Devon Duville, tattoo artist and pirate, meets womanizer Captain Jack Sparrow, she doesn't know what to do kill him or kiss him. It seems Jack feels the same way...Rated MA for adult content. Ye be warned! Please R&R Ch47 up 20-Dec-2011!
1. Singapore

_Disclaimer: Anything owned by Disney does not belong to me, although the Disney belongings don't show up in this first chapter...but they will... just be patient._

**A/N This is my first attempt to write fanfic, so have mercy and let me know if this is any good, or if I should switch to just reading fic again. Reviews are wonderful!**

Chapter 1

**Singapore**

She shifted under his capable hands so that he could get a firmer grip on her. A hiss escaped Devon's mouth from between her clenched teeth. 'Lee, ye do know tha' this hurts just a tad dontcha?'

The only response she got was a muttered, 'Mmm…' since he was concentrating hard on perfectly forming the complex design that was going to grace Devon's slightly red swollen buttocks soon enough. He took a slight pause in his work to respond, 'Ye ne'er once whined before luv, why start now?'

'Well, tha' might be 'cause ye've ne'er touched me butt before, sweetie,' she spat back sarcastically. 'At least not in this way tha' is…' Her blue eyes began to twinkle, with not all of it being the result of the pain from her behind. 'An' ye better hope it resembles th' drawin' I made, or else yer arse is goin' ta be kicked all over Singapore, darlin'. Tha' or I _could_ make tha' Dragon I tattooed on yer back look more like an eel th' next time I visit….' she threatened.

Lee wisely kept his mouth shut, for he knew that she meant business. He'd known her for far too long not to know when she was serious, although almost every comment out of her luscious lips sounded sarcastic to the untrained ear.

'Ouch!'

'Devon… luv… this is goin' ta hurt a lot less if ye just kept still. God, ye've ne'er been such a pain in the _arse_ before…'

'Ye be diggin' those needles in this far on purpose aren't ye?'

'Merely tryin' ta get the D's right. If ye didn't have so much damned muscle on yer arse, ye'd be in a lot less pain, as ye well know. Though I know how much ye love trainin' those particular muscles...' he smirked.

Devon couldn't help but grin despite her uncomfortable position. 'Quite right Lee, me dear friend, ye seem ta know me all too well... Now tell me, are ye nearly finished yet?'

'Not quite yet, just have ta do the outlines, an' after that I'll be all done.'

She knew from experience that the outline was the part that hurt the most, so she braced herself and made a grab for the flask of dark amber liquid of the small table in front of her. After wrapping her fingers around the bottleneck, she lifted it to her mouth and took a long swig. Her eyes closing in relief as she felt the liquid burning its way down her throat.

'Ye little minx, ye know perfectly well that is for disinfection.'

She pouted at the reprimand, even though she wasn't the least bit sorry for it. She clinched her teeth together and pulled a face as she felt the needles dig into her flesh. 'Aye, I do, but ye know I've been dry since last night, I only needed a sip ta remember th' flavour. Just keep up with yer needlework an' let me be...' she said as she took another large swallow of the liquid.

_Aaaah, now this is th' stuff tha' dreams are made of… This drink can ease almost any pain…._ She absolutely adored the stuff! It was like nothing else.

Suddenly something hit the table she was on and Lee cursed. 'I told ye ta keep that bloody excuse for a dog in the other room, Dee! Now I've missed a line and ye've got a spot where it shouldn't be.'

'C'mere Bullet, come ta mommy.. be a good boy an' jus' lay down here fer a little while. Momma's gonna take ye out fer a walk when Uncle Lee's finished.' _Yes_, she thought to herself... _at least Bullet can keep me mind off me hurtin' arse when this is done… th' walk'll do me some good, seein' how I can't sit fer a while anyway. _The little Bulldog wagged its little tail, licked the palm of her hand and after Devon rubbed its head a bit, it made several rounds across the floor before lying down.

Turning her head to Lee, she replied, 'Jus' use yer imagination ta correct th' error, ye know what ta do, what with th' talent ye have an' all.' Hoping that a little sucking up on her part would keep him from being too angry with her for bringing her little French Bulldog into the most sacred part of the tattoo-parlour. She was getting worried that she got no response from Lee when she felt sweat dripping on her arse, and knew that Lee had now entered his trance-like state of upper concentration as he finished her design. Luckily Bullet was now fast asleep, even though she couldn't see the little black-white dog that lay directly under her, she could tell that Bullet was asleep due to the loud snores she heard. She smirked at the familiar sound. Devon had yet to meet any man that could out-snore her dog. Stopping her train of thought there, she rested her head on her arms and tried to ignore the burning sensation on her bum... Shortly she would go into a trance, not un-like Lee's, when suddenly she felt a hard smack on her other butt cheek.

'DONE! Ye damned vixen… Now hand over the flask, if there's even any rum left in it now.' She realized that she still held the bottle and handed it back to Lee without a fuss. She yelped and tried to shift her position on the table as he pressed a cloth drenched in whatever rum was left in the bottle to her left butt cheek.

She hissed a small, 'Thanks,' and held the cloth in place while Lee wrapped her butt with some white linen.

'No naughty escapades for ye tonight Duville, tha' bandage needs ta remain there for at _least_ 24 hours.'

She sighed, 'Oh well, it's not like I've seen anythin' interestin' 'round here anyway.'

He raised an eyebrow at her, 'Thought ye found any sailor suitable for yer little adventures Devon. Ye gettin' picky all of a sudden?'

'Ye know me better than tha', Lee, I have me urges, but I don't take 'em out on any man tha' has th' fortune, or should I say... misfortune, o' crossing me path. Ye of all people should know tha' well.'

Oh he knew alright... not long after that he found himself recalling some old memories of the night they met...

A/N Please review... please gives you big blue puppy dog eyes Yes, there are dogs with blue eyes, thanks very much

****

**_Now edited – 18/2/05! xoxo Linnie (DuTchess's BETA) _**


	2. Going back in time

_Disclaimer: Anything owned by Disney does not belong to me, although the Disney belongings don't show up in this first chapter...but they will... just be patient. And Poison belongs to Alice Cooper..._

**A/N This is my first attempt to write fanfic, so have mercy and let me know if this is any good, or if I should switch to just reading fic again. And reviews are very welcome!  
**

Chapter 2

**First Meetings**

Lee's mind began to wander off... to memories of long ago.

_Your cruel device _

_Your blood, _

_Like ice _

_One look, could kill _

_My pain, your thrill... _

I wanna love you but I better not touch

_I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop _

_I wanna kiss you but I want it too much _

_I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison _

_You're poison, running through my veins _

_Poison _

_I don't wanna play these games _

Your mouth, so hot

_Your web, I'm caught _

_Your skin, so wet _

_Black lace, on sweat... _

I hear you calling and it's needles and pins

_I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name _

_Don't wanna touch you but you're under my skin _

_I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison _

_You're poison, running through my veins _

_Poison _

_I don't wanna break these chains _

_Poison... _

One look, could kill my pain, your thrill...

**Five years earlier**

He was seated at his usual table at "The Dragon's Fire" when a rather remarkable woman walked in. She was very muscular for a woman, very tanned, and had piercing blue eyes that held a mysterious look in them. Her raven black hair was tied in numerous braids, which were wrapped with leather straps. She wore men's clothing, yet managed to do so in a feminine way. She wore black breeches, a black tunic and a black leather vest over the tunic which was fitted tight around her torso, exposing her breasts and quite a bit of cleavage. None of the patrons minded that one bit though. She walked straight to the bar, swung herself onto a stool and asked for a bottle of rum. She drank her rum straight from the bottle, not even bothering to use the cup that was still on the bar.

Never before had he seen such a woman. He was astounded by her behaviour, because he was certain he had never seen her before, yet she acted as if she owned the place.

He overheard her telling jokes to the wenches behind the bar and laughing cockily to the men around her. He was truly fascinated by this mystery woman. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he _so_ wanted to... He felt almost bewitched by her.

While he sat contemplating whether or not to go over to her, the presence of a hand on his shoulder jarred him from his thoughts.

'Ye lookin' at me like tha' gives me th' creeps, luv. If ye intend ta woo me, save yer troubles, 'cause I'm not tha' kind o' girl.'

Before he could even speak, she looked him deep in the eyes. All thought was abandoned when he looked back into her eyes. It was such an intense look that it drew the blood from his face. 'I tend ta go straight fer business meself if me feels th' need, but right now I'm only 'ere ta have a drink, so would ye kindly stop undressin' me with yer eyes an' either buy me a drink or piss off.' Feisty this one was, almost demonic.

So he did buy her a drink, and another, and another. They had drunk and talked about all and nothing all night and he had to admit that he was very, very attracted to her. She had caught the eye of every sailor in "The Dragon," but that didn't seem to bother her, nor did she act as though she even noticed. It was almost like she was used to being the center of attention. She wasn't even that beautiful, but her eyes... there was just something about them that drew all other eyes to them, swallowing them, devouring them. He had never seen such eyes before. Even when some of the men in the tavern had the guts to finally approach her she would only blow them off with: 'Bite me! An' I don't mean tha' literally!'

It flattered him that this unattainable woman had chosen him so sit with. Oh, how he would love to get his hands on her...

Somehow she knew precisely what the subject of his thoughts was, again, and she looked him straight in the eye. 'Listen Lou... Lee... whatever. As I told ye b'fore, I'm not interested in ye so ye can just stop yer naughty lil' thoughts. I am – however – _very_ interested in yer tattoos and would love ta learn how it is ye got 'em,' her words slightly slurred as she spoke.

Then he told her that he owned one of Singapore's best tattoo-parlours and how he had tattooed many a pirate. She was all ears. 'Got meself branded almost a year back, think ye can turn th' scar inta somethin' nice?' she asked, holding up her arm. Given that the scar had been there for a year or so and him being as talented as he was he accepted her offer, or rather her challenge. They then decided that he would turn the 'P' on her forearm into a dragon.

**Present**

And that was how they met, all those years ago. Devon had a large passion about tattooing and was quite a talented artist. She could draw the most amazing designs. So naturally he recognized her talent, so he taught her the trade and she worked for him for over a year.

In all that time, she had seen many men, but they never lasted long. Most of them were long forgotten the next morning. Devon just left them in an empty bed and went on with her life. He hated all her lovers since they were able to touch her, sleep with her and love her like he never could. Over the years they'd known each other, only once had she shared her bed with him. It was unlike any other experience he had before. She never called it "making love," with her occupation as a pirate she couldn't love. She preferred calling it "making war." The night that they had "made war," they did so until it hurt and there was no love involved, only lust. And back then he wouldn't have had it any other way.

She had made clear to him before-hand that it would be a one-time only thing and he didn't press the matter, because he wouldn't have missed it for the world. After that night, they had never spoken of it again. Sure she would make sarcastic remarks and jokes about it and he would laugh along. He knew it had meant little to Devon. But as much as he tried, he couldn't deny the fact that his heart had been involved that time, even if hers wasn't. To Devon it was just a way to get rid of and release her anger, or simply giving into urges. Nothing less, and most definitely, nothing more.

Then she had left him to seek her fortune elsewhere. Even though she never spoke it aloud, he knew it was because she missed the sea. So she signed on with the crew of "The Hazard" and left him behind. He had missed her… somehow the little hellcat had grown on him. Oh Yes, Devon Duville was most definitely poison.

She was the most venomous poison he knew of, and incredibly lethal. But in spite of it all he loved every inch of her. He could never let her know that, even if it was just because of how lethal she could be.

As Devon began to pull up her breeches, he snapped back into reality.

'Oy ye Daydreamer, I'm gonna take Bullet fer a walk. I'll be back later, so we can have a last drink together b'fore I go. Meet me in "Th' Dragon" in an hour.'

'Aye lass,' Lee said nodding.

She tied the leash to Bullet's leather collar and opened the door of the parlour. She had to admit, this tattoo hurt her more than any of the other ones she had gotten.

'Better be worth th' pain,' she muttered under her breath. She made way to the docks, her eyes tracing the contours of the beautiful ship that had given her back her freedom a few years ago. "The Hazard" was the closest thing to a home she'd ever had, but then again she wasn't exactly sure what a home was supposed to feel like. Her father had never been around much when she was a child.

Always off sailing upon the seven seas, pillaging, plundering and doing whatever it took to be one of the best pirate captains known to the world.

And her mother, well mommy dearest never understood her rebel child. She always said that Devon was a boy in a girl's body. Maybe her mother had been right after all… she certainly was a tomboy and most definitely followed in her father's footsteps, if not as a captain, at least as a pirate.

And her behaviour had never been very feminine.

Maybe that's why she devoured men. She thought and acted like a man. Although when men acted the way she did, they seemed to gain respect. When a woman did it, she lost respect. But she was never one to care what people said.

Never did to begin with. Devon was always happy with who and what she was... why did what anyone else thought matter?

She walked back to town about an hour later, and went to the tavern to meet Lee. She entered "The Dragon's Fire" with Bullet close on her heels.

''Ello luv, nice doggy you've got there,' a bloke on her right commented.

'Well, I'm fond of 'im, and I must say tha' 'e looks a lot nicer than ye do,' she grinned, making a face at the man.

'Why you dirty whore, I oughta ...'

'Ye oughta what? Pay more attention ta personal hygiene? Yes lad, I think tha' would be a good start.'

He got up from his chair and grabbed her wrist forcefully.

Devon looked him straight in the eye "Ye had best let go o' tha' luv, don't make me spoil me last evenin' 'ere.'

Of course he decided to ignore her request. 'Yer a feisty one, I give ye that. Bet ye an' I could have lots of fun together...'

'I bet ye do,' she hissed. He stepped closer to her and pressed his body up against hers. When he did this Bullet barred his teeth and began to growl viciously. The man took a step back.

'Lettin' th' mutt fight yer battles, missy?'

'Now tha's jus' takin' one bleedin' step too far, ye prick. No one calls me a missy an' Bullet a mutt an' gets 'way with it…' And with that she drew back her arm, curling her hand into a fist, and then it hit the man forcefully on the chin. He fell to the floor unconscious.

'Oh yes, lad, we did 'ave fun didn't we? Ta!'

The other men in the tavern looked at her and she glared back in their general direction. No one dared to even comment on the scene that just took place. Most of the men knew Devon and knew it was a wise thing not to butt into her business.

She turned on her heel and headed for the bar where Lee sat with a wide grin on his face. 'Punched his lights out ye did!'

'Damn right I did. Called me a missy!'

Lee's grin got even wider. 'In tha' case I be surprised tha' ye let him live ta see tomorrow, Spitfire.'

'Ah well, men make mistakes, an' some make bloody stupid ones… but I bet ye tha' he won't be makin' tha' mistake 'gain.'

She tapped on the bar and the bartender immediately poured her a mug of rum. After they went through a few rounds of rum, Devon had the bartender fetch a bowl and some water for Bullet. Normally the bartender didn't like dogs in his tavern, but for Devon's dog he stretched the rules a bit. Despite her rough appearance, he knew she had a warm heart. And with her being a close friend of his brother Lee, he allowed the funny-looking dog in with no trouble.

After a few more mugs of rum, Devon turned in early for the night. "The Hazard" was due to sail at sunrise and she did not want to be late. She and Bullet slept in the small spare bedroom at Lee's house since he would never let her rent a room when she came back to visit.

That morning she got up as quick as she could, packed her bag, strapped her belt around her waist and assembled her weapons. Two daggers went in her belt, as well as two pistols, while she hid a dagger the length of her forearm in her right sea boot. And last but not least she hid her precious throwing stars in one of her vest pockets. She was ready to go. She hurried down the stairs, Bullet following in her wake.

She hugged Lee, who was already standing in the doorway, and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

'Thank ye fer everythin', Lee. Until next time, Dragon man.'

'Until next time, Spitfire.'

_A/N Do me a huge favor and give me your honest opinion, because I am very nervous about this whole posting thing, took me long enough to post it, so let me know if it's any good..._

_**Now edited – 18/2/05! xoxo Linnie **_


	3. Heading for Heaven

_Disclaimer: I merely own the laptop I'm writing on, the table it is placed upon and the room of the house the table is in and the house. Nothing more. _

The shanty Devon sings in this chapter is a song I found surfing the net doing a little research, it's called Pirate's life. Don't own that either...

Chapter 3

**Heading for Heaven  
**

Devon sat up in the crows nest enjoying the sunset, once she was done working the ropes, mending the sails and inspecting the weaponry of course. She now officially was free of duties. She had a few minutes time before Jameson (better known as "The Eye") would claim his place in the main mast.

She loved climbing the ropes upon the ships balcony. That's what she liked to call it. "Crows nest" simply didn't do this spot justice when it happened to be the best seat in the house...errrm, ship, to watch the rising and setting of the sun.

She loved how the sun would dip into the ocean and was able to view all the liquid reds, oranges and purples that filled both sky and sea. If she hadn't known better herself, she'd have thought that she was in danger of losing her edge, what with her getting all mushy at the site of the colliding sky and horizon. But there was no need to inform anyone of that fact, now was there?

'Duville?'

'Aye capt'n?'

'Need ya ta take the helm, I'm turnin' in for the night an' Stevens is still feelin' unwell.'

'Aye sir!' she grabbed the rope that hung from the crows nest and swung down onto the main deck, landing very ungracefully in front of Captain Drake. She was glad Stevens, _The Hazards_ first mate, hadn't fully recovered from the illness that had fallen upon him the night before. It was a cruel thing to be thankful for a fellow pirate being ill, but it meant that she got the helm for the night, and that was most satisfying reward.

'Oh, and Duville?' Captain Drake didn't even bother to wait for her to respond before he continued. 'Where's tha' sad excuse for a dog o' yers? Thought it followed its mistress everywhere.'

'In me quarters sir, can't have Bullet paradin' 'round on deck, now can we?' she said with a wink.

'Aye, it's quite a good thin' since we have its mistress ta do th' paradin' for us.' His tired face seemed to light up at that comment. 'Now man... _woman_ th' helm.'

She obliged and stood behind the wheel, running her fingers over the wood almost caressing it. The lingering depths of the oggin was her first love, and steering a ship through it could very well be one of her seconds.

Her eyes focused on the compass she had looted years ago, and cleaned the aged and smudged brass surface with her thumb. They were heading for the warm, welcoming, wicked whorehouse called Tortuga. And with the wind being in her favour, she assumed they could be there within a few days.

She took the wheel with both hands and began to sing.

_It's wonderful livin' the life of a pirate_

_with the freedom to take what we can _

and we'll sail the world over, searchin' for plunder

_not fearin' to face any man _

_We call no man our master, no lord and no king. _

Not long in one place do we stay.

And this world is for those who can grab it, and hold it.

Possession's the law of the day.

So we take what we want, we don't bother with buyin'.

We say what we mean, there ain't no point to lyin'.

Don't like what we say, you might find yourself dyin'

in a manner too gruesome to say.

_When we come into town to spend all our spoils, _

a good time will be had by all.

We'll all head to some pub to get drunk off our arses,

when we're there, there ain't any last call.

I'll get rum for meself and buy ale for me friends,

and a great deal of loot on my lovers I'll spend.

When the money's all gone it's off to sea again

to trade cargo for cannonball.

_There's not one of us left who has not yet been blooded, _

for killing's a part of our trade.

And the only thing standing between us and death

Is strength of arm, and speed of blade.

So we live every day like it might be our last

For all of us know that life is hard and fast

We live for the moment, don't care 'bout the past

From this is our comradeship made.

She grinned when she heard a warm tenor join her song from atop the main mast.

'Oh ye wonderful tenor, ye really are a true bliss for sore ears,' she yelled to the man high above her.

'Th' song be about spendin' money on **wenches**, not **lovers** Dee,' he yelled back, mirth gracing his speech.

'So much fer givin' compliments…'

As the two continued the shanty together, Jameson kept the lyrics true, and singing about wenches, while she insisted on shouting '**LOVERS!**' instead. Her wrecking the song in such a way was driving The Eye insane, but that only made it more fun for Devon.

Funny how almost all the sea shanties she knew of were all about male pirates and their treasured wenches, but she could think of none that were about female pirates and their men.

And she knew there had been numerous fearsome pirates of her gender, take Anne Bonny for instance, and of course there was also Mary Read. Although maybe they too sang songs of wenches, for there were scuttlebutt 'bout them loving women as well... Ah well, didn't matter to her who people chose to spend their nights ashore with. But they were some of the most feared female pirates ever and Devon was inspired by them.

The night went by too quickly, much to her chagrin, for now she had to turn over her place at the helm to the capable hand of her Captain.

'Done a fine job tonight, Duville.'

'Just doin' me job capt'n.'

'Proves tha' ye've earned yer salt on me ship even more.'

'No need fer salt capt'n, but do I have th' need fer a mug o' rum an' some shut-eye. Have ta be fully prepared fer Tortuga aye?' she quipped with her trademark grin plastered on her face.

'Quite th' wicked woman ye be, Duville.'

'Whatever gave ye th' idea I'm a woman?'

Winking at her Captain, she turned on her heel and made way to her bunk. After undressing, she went through her sea chest looking for a precious bottle that she had hidden beneath a double bottom.

Bullet opened his eyes while Devon dug through the chest and licked her arm. She halted her search and leaned down to pet the dog that she loved so dearly. 'Just a few more hours Bullet and we'll be in heaven,' she cooed to her small bulldog. She swore that he knew what she said because he went right back to sleep afterwards. 'Don't ye start dreamin' 'bout poodles 'gain now.'

Since she had emptied the flask that she carried inside her vest the night before, she took a large swig of rum from the bottle she just extracted from her sea chest. Ah, how she enjoyed the slight burning sensation it gave her as the rum swirled around her mouth, over her tongue and down her throat. She closed her eyes and went to lie down in bed... dreaming of rum, gold and men.

* * *

Meanwhile the Captain was lost in thought about the strange woman that was part of his crew.

When she first came to him, wanting to become a member of his crew a few years ago, he had been very skeptic about taking a woman on board. He had heard many tales about the frightful bad luck that they brought and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to risk it.

Not to mention that back then, he thought that the only reason women were placed on this earth were to get married and serve their husbands, or become whores and serve everything and everyone but husbands. But there had been a threat in her beautiful sparkling eyes that day…. Something that made him wonder about this mysterious woman.

So in the end he took her aboard as a shipmate, making her do tasks he believed that she couldn't do, because after all, he knew that this weirdly muscular looking specimen was only a _woman,_ and all women that he knew were to weak and fragile to do hard labour.

But this Miss Duville did not look a bit fragile, she looked strong... and she proved to be stronger than he figured by completing every single task she was given. Not only that but she may have done them even better than some of her fellow crewmates.

Even with being a woman, Devon worked twice as hard as any man on his ship, and gained more and more respect from him and his crew as weeks, months and years had gone by. He knew that the cocky attitude she put forth had a lot to do with being able to keep the upper hand with the other pirates. She was the only woman aboard his ship and for that reason she had to be tough.

None of his crew had the nerve to even touch her, but he knew that many men in his crew dreamt of her at night. For hell's sake, he'd even done that. But she kept them all at a distance.

Though sometimes when they partied she would let her guard down and tease the men while the rum was passed around, but she never got involved with anyone on the ship. All she wanted from them was respect, comradeship and loyalty, and that was what she had gained and had given in return.

But whenever they docked at some port, Devon seemed to have same urges that his male crewmembers had. Granted she acted the urges out a different way, but he couldn't say that it didn't surprise him a little at first. She was not the seduced party (like his men), but she was the seductress, luring men into her trap and succeeding with every single one.

She loved her admirers, but he knew that she was not seriously involved with anyone. She had different lovers in different ports, and possibly even having different lovers in the same port, now that he thought about it. But most of all, Dee (as his men would mostly call her) was as capable as any of his men, fearless and could easily hold her own in a fight. She never spilled blood unless it was necessary. It caused too much of a mess, as she always said.

Whenever she could she would wit her way out of the situation. But if the situation called for rash actions, she stood first in line. True, her sword skills were quite good, but her true strength lied in shooting. In all the years he had her on his crew, she had never once missed a shot.

She had a remarkable aim and sometimes she even shot without taking the time to even look at the target, but she could shoot simply by listening to her opponent. Therefore he put her in charge of the armoury and the weapons aboard "The Hazard." Devon was his Master Gunner, as well as a whole lot of other things. She would inspect, clean, dismantle all of the guns and would then re-assemble them. No one could do it better, and no one could do it faster.

Taking her aboard had seemed risky at first, but now he realized that it was possibly one of the best decisions he had ever made...

* * *

After Devon woke up and got dressed she took Bullet out on deck. Her dog needed to breathe some fresh sea-air and so did she.

When Devon got up on deck she saw Shredder and Hoggins tangled up in a heavy discussion.

'What's up wit' ye two? Fightin' 'bout which o' ye can kiss me first?' she said, grinning mischievously.

'No Dee.'

'Oh good, 'cause I almost couldn't contain meself, would've had ta devour ye both.'

Hoggins rolled his eyes at Shredder, 'There ain't no hope fer her.'

'Au contraire, me darlin's. There be no hope fer ye ta e'er plant a kiss on these luscious lips! Now, what exactly were ye two fussin' 'bout?'

'Tactics,' said Shredder.

'Aha, well tha' be me specialty...'

Both men started to sum up techniques that could be used to defeat one's enemy. She noticed that all of them contained slaughter and blood spilt, without the two of them even considering any other possibilities.

Devon sighed as she raised her eyebrows. _Why is it tha' men always insist on makin' a bloody mess_? The grotesque options just kept getting more and more gory. _Enough o' this!_

'No! No! No! Ye need ta find yer opponent's weakness…' Devon shouted at them, waving her hands in front Shredder's face, gaining their attention. 'Ye need ta look fer thin's they feel weak about… their insecurities an' tha' sort o' thin'. An' if ye can't find out, well than tha' would seem ta be yer weakness,' she stated matter-of-factly.

'Ye mean things like a wooden leg or somethin' like that?' Hoggins asked.

'No, ye need ta creep inside their minds, as it were. Think like they think, but keep th' thinkin' goin' in yer favour ya follow? An' don't ye let 'em know what yer thinkin', don't e'en think o' tha'!'

'Do ye even understand what yer blabberin' 'bout yerself, Dee?' Shredder asked with confusion plastered all over his face.

'Yup, as a matter o' fact I've crept inside me mind a gazillion times. Never seizes ta amaze me either. Th' thin's I've found in there... just amazin'!' she grinned. 'An' creepin' inside th' minds o' others, now tha's what's really interestin'…'

Hoggins interrupted her train of thought, 'Must think ye 'ave all o' th' wisdom o' th' world in yer hands don't ya.'

'Hell no! Where th' the devil would I put it when me hands are itchin' ta do other, more interestin', thin's? What if they grow tired?' she said with her trademark grin.

Shredder rolled his eyes. He would never fully understand this woman, not even if he lived to reach the age of a hundred.

'Oh come now boys, don't hate me because I be oh-so intelligent. Took me long 'nough ta get this smart. Brains like these don't grow on trees ya know. An' _breasts_ like these don't either.'

While saying "breasts" she cupped her breasts and squeezed them. The men couldn't help but grin at her antics.

'Land ho! Tortuga awaits!' they heard "The Eye" yell from the crows nest.

Devon's grin got even wider... 'Heaven awaits gents!' she said as she walked over to the railing.

Shredder walked up next to her and commented, 'Odd, how a demon like ye can look forward ta goin' ta heaven.' He winked at her.

'Even fallen cherubs like meself look forward ta goin' home. An' 'sides I love tryin' ta equal th' scale.'

**A/N: Now please, if anyone is even reading this story, please let me know, because I could sure spend more time with my dear husband, than sitting behind the computer ruining my nails! So, please, review... **

**_Now edited – 27/2/05! xoxo Linnie _**


	4. The Treasure Chest holds many surprises

_Disclaimer: Still don't own POTC. But I do own my wicked little mind. (Read results below). _

And remember, to steal ideas fro one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is research! (Saw that one surfin' the net researching, and I must say, it sounded good!)

Chapter 4

**The Treasure Chest Holds Many Surprises**

**  
**

Many of the crew of "_The Hazard_" could be found in a tavern called "The Treasure Chest" after they had docked at Tortuga. And while the men talked to each other, Devon noticed that she was became bored with all the heroic tales being told around her, for she knew if you believed even half of them that still would be too much. So she decided to have a little fun of her own...

'Oy, ye slut!' Devon yelled more loudly than necessary after one of the strumpets in the tavern.

'Tha' be th' pot callin' th' kettle black, now ain't it, Duville?' the girl hissed.

'I be no whore, deary, ye get paid fer yer services, I get satisfied from th' services I deliver an' receive. There be quite a difference in them professions.'

'At least I get paid,' the girl sneered.

'At least I don't sell meself ta all an' sundry…'

'But ye sleep with 'em, ye do.'

'Oh ye wound me, dearest. But ye see, th' _real_ difference be tha' I happen ta hand-pick th' lucky blighters meself!'

'Oh, yer so full of yerself.'

'Yup, while ye, on th' other hand, are just full o' everyone else!' Devon grinned wickedly.

With that said she turned on her heel and plopped down in a chair. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. _Damn, should've seen tha' comin'._

'Dee, why do ye always do this when we dock here?'

Jameson shook his head at the raven haired woman. He knew that harassing wenches was one of her favourite pastimes.

'Don't know mate, just seems fun I suppose. But now tha' ye've ruined me fun ye can buy me a rum. On second thought, make tha' a double!' She grinned when Jameson called a wench and ordered another bottle of rum for them.

Devon started blabbering once the wench returned with the rum. 'Such a shame really when th' only thin' I wanted from her was ta tell me where I can get me some new undergarments. Walkin' 'round without me knickers is convenient some times, 'specially when we dock, but I don't tend ta make tha' a habit….'

Jameson looked over to Shredder, both of them eager to ask the same question, but neither of them wanted to be the one to ask it.

Alas, before either one of them could pop the question, Captain Drake pulled out a chair and sat down next to Devon.

* * *

_Drake's P.O.V._

'Drake, how nice o' ye ta join us. This mean yer buyin'?'

The Captain shook his head, this woman is impossible...

He watched as she scanned the inhabitants of the tavern… _Probably pickin' out her next victim, as it were… _But he stopped that train of thought as he placed his hand on her cheek and turned her head towards him.

'Now tell me Dee, don't ye ever get tired o' this game? Don't ye ever want ta start whole new life? Settle down, get married, have children. Yer not tha' young anymore, Dee… Time could outrun ye one o' these days.' This was the first time Drake could recall actually trying to have a serious discussion with the woman.

'Bleedin' hell Drake! I be a pirate fer Hell's sake, not some Mary-Sue! I live fer action, love ta fight an' I don't think I could e'er be content with one man! An' don't ye worry 'bout little ol' Dee becomin' an old maid, for ye all know tha' I'm no maiden an' really not tha' old either, thanks very much. Ye've known me fer years… So why ask questions tha' ye know th' answer to anyways?' she queried as she got a gleam in her eyes that was not particularly nice or innocent.

'Someday you'll find a man tha' ye don't want ta let go o' Dee. Ye know that's bound ta happen someday. Wouldn't ye like ta have a child one day?' Drake continued.

'Oh, I like children an' all, Drake, but I'm not quite sure I could eat a whole one by me onesies,' she said smirking. ''Specially not t'day, so I'll have ta pass on tha' one," she said sarcastically. _Distraction is th' best way ta turn any conversation 'round, _she thought._  
_  
''Sides, ye seem ta forget tha' I _was_ engaged once. So I've been there, done that, an' thankfully have forgotten 'bout most o' it. I suffered from temporary insanity back then an' now I only regret tha' I didn't kill th' bastard sooner,' she gulped the rum down and made a face.

'What did he do that got ye so angry, if I can be so bold as ta ask,' Drake couldn't believe how she had opened up like that.

'None o' yer damn business, with all due respect sir. Th' past is th' past, an' there be no need ta be dig up th' dead.'

Shredder and Jameson shared a look again. This woman was lethal, that they knew. She had killed in the many fights they had gotten in and she had killed in the past, even before she turned pirate, but they couldn't believe that she had just admitted that she had actually been engaged once. Lord have mercy on the poor lad.

Devon sighed. 'Nostalgia just ain't what it used ta be, is it gents?' She stroked Bullet behind his ears gently.

All men at the table looked at her, puzzled looks on their tanned faces. How could a woman like her be so gentle to a dog? _Yes, there was most definitely more ta this woman than met the eye_.

The Captain had stopped his questions. Glad that he could rest assured, knowing that he wouldn't be loosing his capable lady pirate to another. He didn't want her to become a proper lady, if she could have ever been called proper that is.

They talked, drank, played cards and had a jolly good time, but Drake noticed that Devon wasn't really with them that night.

_

* * *

_

Devon's P.O.V.

Devon's blue eyes scanned the bar, looking for other entertainment, since she wasn't too thrilled with her present company. Her eyes locked with an eccentric looking man. His hair was dark, part of it braided and part in dreads, and he had beads strung in them as well. _Odd, _she thought,_ an' I thought tha' I was th' only one with a weird hair fetish._ This man never took his gaze off her, and she never took her eyes from him either. His eyes were rimmed with kohl just like hers, and she found herself surprised again by this man that she had seen for all of a few minutes. _Ne'er seen a man tha' wore make-up who looked this sexy. _She was entranced by the eyes of this man, never before had she seen such eyes. She felt as though she could drown in them.

_

* * *

_

Jack's P.O.V.

Jack sat in his chair in the back of the dim lit tavern. There had been a few wenches attempting to claim his attention, but he had kindly turned them down for now. He couldn't decide whether to spend his night with the red-haired Scarlet, the blonde Sue-Ellen or the dark-haired one that hadn't formally introduced herself... Running through the possibilities in his mind, he called for a wench to get him a few mugs of rum.

Gibbs had kept him company while the other members of his crew either reaped the benefits of a horizontal position already, or were in the process of getting drunk to the bone. He couldn't care less, as long as he was having his rum and women were surrounding him, he was a happy camper.

When Gibbs took a swig of his rum and adjusted his chair a little more to the right, Jack caught sight of a most intriguing woman. His chocolate brown eyes were just sucked into her kohl rimmed blue ones. He grinned when he saw her hair, he liked a woman with unusual hairdos, much like his own.

He just couldn't keep his eyes off her. She looked built for hard labour, and he could tell that she used it to her advantage, judging by her muscular figure, yet she still had divine womanly curves. He couldn't help but gazing down her cleavage._ Hell, if a woman wears leather and lets her breast show like that, then she is probably used to having men gaze down at them_. Seeing how that made perfectly good sense, he grinned.

He had his trademark grin all over his face, as he got sucked deeper and deeper into those blue eyes, until Gibbs snapped him back into reality that is.

'Capt'n, where we be headin' next?'

'Huh?'

'Where we be headin' next?'

'Haven't quite decided tha' yet, Gibbs, but I know where _I_ be headed next...' and he got up swiftly, slightly swaying and taking long strides towards the source of his attention at the moment.

_

* * *

_

Devon's P.O.V.

Devon had diverted her attention from the man in the corner for the moment and stroked Bullet. She looked out of the corner of her eye towards the mystery man, but he was gone. The only man who sat at the table now was the older one with the funny hamster beard.

'Ahem,' she heard behind her. She looked up from her dog, and found herself face-to-face with the mystery man himself.

''Ello luv, now tell me, do ya believe in love at first sight, or do I have ta walk by 'gain?' he said with a smirk on his face.

_Now, tha' had ta be th' biggest turnoff I e'er heard. _It seemed that her instincts were wrong and that this man was not as intriguing as she first thought. _Must have been th' stupidest pickup line I've e'er heard... an' I've heard some really winners b'fore….  
_  
_I suppose this be a good example o' how light travels faster than sound, _she thought._ That must be why some people appear bright and sexy until ye hear them speak. His voice sure is sexy though... Deep, a bit raw and melodic... while his words slightly slur together.  
_  
'Ye've just proven a fact, dear,' she said while she studied his tanned face.

'What's that luv? That love at first sight does exist? I knew it! No woman can resist me charms.'

'Not quite, deary, ye've proven ta me tha' there really is one more **imbecile** ta walk th' face o' this planet than I counted on.'

'How's that? I don't think I fully understand ye luv.'

'Need more proof, _luv_?' she teased, rolling her eyes at him. _How could a man that looks so hot be this stupid?  
_  
'Listen, maybe these strumpets fall fer yer stupid lines, but not Devon Duville, alright? And now if ye'll excuse me I have places ta be, people ta threaten, an' things ta steel, you know ... th' usual business,' she said while she put Bullet's leash on.

'Does that mean yer a pirate luv?'

'No, I be a **ballerina**. What does it look like I am! My god ye really are tha' stupid!'

She took a last large swig from her rum, giving the men she was sitting with a hand-blown kiss, and shoved him aside while she strolled towards the bar. She tossed a few shillings on the bar, nodded to the bartender and made her way to the door.

_

* * *

_

Jack's P.O.V.

'Duville!' the stupid mystery man shouted. She stopped in her pace, turned around, spread her legs a bit, placed hands on her hips and tilted her head slightly.

'Aye?'

'Yer not **THE** Devon Duville I've heard rumors 'bout, are ye?'

'Unless ye heard anythin' 'bout me havin' a saintly nature, then yes tha' would be me,' she shot back, her trademark grin gracing her beautiful face, her eyes flaming.

The mystery man now had a huge – almost demonic – grin on his face. _Oh I have heard many stories told by many men 'bout a woman named Devon Duville. These stories told of how she was Satan's Apprentice, and how she had left many men completely satisfied in an empty bed after she had her way with them. At least one story in almost every port that I bring me beloved Pearl to, now that's a reputation that nearly matches me own. An' now I be standin' face ta face with this illustrious woman. Hmmm… Perhaps I should do a little research an' see if these stories be th' truth or if they be stories like me infamous "seaturtle" one._

'Well luv, I never even got ta tell ye me name,' he said as he walked over to her and stood in front of her, mimicking her pose.

_

* * *

_

Devon's P.O.V.

Her eyebrows rose slightly, then she swiftly turned around, her braids whipping around her head, and called over her shoulder back to the man as she walked away, 'Tha' would be because I ne'er asked.'

With that said, she kicked open the door and breathed in the moist, salty, filthy air of Tortuga. There would be no men for her tonight, and that was just fine. Even a girl like Devon needed her beauty sleep.

**A/N: **

Thanks to all of you who have reviewed, it means so much to me. If you see any errors in the spelling, please correct me. I am Dutch and I try my best to get everything written and spelled right, but I am human so I am bound to screw up here and there.

FunkyFlamingo: Hope you like this chapter as well.

Omala Moola: Took your advice, didn't even know I blocked out anonymous reviewers. Thanx for pointing that out!

Linthilde: Glad you like the story so far, hope I can live up to your expectations. I shall continue with this story, now that I know people DO actually read it!

ZigZag: Yup, you've described Devon perfectly, but that what made the encounter of those to so difficult to write, just because they are so much alike. Should have thought of that before now, didn't I?

PineAppleLint: My dear, having your compliments means so much... Since you've sort of inspired me. Glad you like my writing. So she has met Sparrow, but has no idea. This was so difficult to write. I mean, she is attracted to a lot of men, so why wouldn't she want to ravish Sparrow, the moment she lays eyes on him. So I decided the physical attraction had to be there, now I have to find a way to bring them in closer contact...

**Again, thanks to all of ye. And don't hesitate to review!**

_**Now edited – 27/2/05! xoxo Linnie **_


	5. Of Dragons and Sea Turtles

_Disclaimer: I do not own POTC or Jack Sparrow. If I did I would hide him from all your preying eyes and have my filthy way with him (Thanks the lord on bare knees, my husband can't read English) buy a brand new Alfa Romeo Spider, shop even more fanatically than I already do and would take a looooooooooooooooooooooooooong break from work. Oh, and I would be living in a castle (not just a big house but a CASTLE! For I am a princess) …. Gets carried away by Jack.  
_  
But I don't. So... keep dreaming of winning the lottery once (Like that'll ever happen) or hope to be discovered once by one of Disney's head hunters... sighs

**A/N **

Thanks to all you lovely reviewers, I am so glad you all like Devon and you like the story I've written so far. Speaking of which... I best get started then, don't I?

Chapter 5

**Of Dragons and Sea turtles**

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**

He watched her stroll out of the _"Treasure Chest"_ with her head held high, and a slight sway in her gait. For a moment he contemplated whether he should go after her. But it only took him another moment to realise that he would more than likely get slapped again. It was strange how many women tended to enjoy that … they did it often enough after all.

He quickly turned on his heel, trinkets jingling and hitting his face, to look into the tavern and get a good look at the men Devon had been sitting with. He couldn't believe his eyes.

'Drake! How've ye been ol' boy! Haven't seen ye sailin' these waters fer a long time!'

'Sparrow! Can't believe I didn't notice ye before now! Have a seat, mate! An' tell me all 'bout what ye've been up ta lately.'

'How long 'as it been? Eight, nine years now?'

'Ta be honest, I think I've had a bit too much rum ta recall when it was, Sparrow. But I know fer damn sure tha' it's been too long.'

Jack pulled up a chair and waved Gibbs over to their table, since he was still sitting at the table in the back.

They were soon entangled in a loud conversation, swapping stories, laughing, and trying to impress the other.

Then Johnson took advantage of a lull in the stories to ask how the two captains knew each other.

'We were part o' th' same crew fer several years a long time ago, but then we parted ways ta seek our fortunes elsewhere. Then I became Captain o' "The Hazard," an' Jack Sparrow became one o' th' most infamous pirate Captains in th' whole Spanish Main.'

'Ye be a captain now? Funny ol' world innit?'

Drake grinned. 'I may not be as infamous as ye are, for yer reputation greatly precedes ye…. Hear th' women talkin' about ye every port we dock, I do. But yes, I am a Captain now, Sparrow.'

Suddenly he realised something very interesting. _Captain Jack Sparrow just 'ad quite th' encounter with th' only woman I've ever known o' tha' had th' same illustrious reputation as he does, an' yet they didn't leave th' tavern together. Actually if me eyes are workin' correctly, Devon hadn't even shown interest in 'im. Usually Dee is quite a fast worker when she finds someone attractive… an' from hearin' all th' stories 'bout th' womanizin' Sparrow, I think th' same could be said 'bout him_. _Strange. Very strange indeed._

'Drake?' Jack queried. 'How do ye know the woman that sat with ye earlier?'

Drake smirked, and the other men sitting at the table leaned in to hear better, they knew this was going to be an interesting story.

'Ye mean _our little angel_?'

The crewmembers of "_The Hazard_" laughed loudly at that comment.

Shredder yelled, 'She be from a small nunnery in St. Martin. We took 'er aboard, 'cause we wanted ta clean our consciences an' she blessed us with her angelic features. Reads th' Bible ta us every night an' all…'

Hoggins just couldn't help himself, and soon there were tears of laughter running down his face.

Jack looked as if he'd seen water burn. 'Enough men!' Drake shouted, trying very hard to contain his laughter. 'If th' Captain wishes ta be told 'bout Dee, he shall hear all he wants ta know.'

'Why is this all so amusin' ta all o' ye? I've heard 'er name mentioned fer years now, so I am a tad bit curious 'bout 'er. Now tell me!"

'She be one o' th' best members o' me crew, Sparrow,' Drake said seriously, eying the men sitting at the table as he did so. None of them spoke another word.

Then Drake told him how he had met her and how she joined his crew. He told him everything there was to tell. Granted there was much more to Dee than he ever got a chance to find out, but he told Sparrow all he knew of regardless.

Jack's mouth fell open slightly during the stories Drake told. _So, th' stories are real, therefore she is real. It was really her. But if tha' WAS her, then why didn't she ravish me an' let me have my way wit' her? No woman can resist me. What went wrong there?  
_  
'But if she is as good o' a pirate as you say she is, then why did ye all get branded an' I haven't seen 'er wit' a "P" on her forehead or on 'er arm? What's th' deal? Does she hide in 'er quarters until th' fights are over, an' therefore she escaped while th' others got branded or somethin'?' Jack asked, eager to any find loopholes in her story.

'Jack? Did ye not notice th' Dragon tattoo on her arm?' Drake asked looking him straight in the eye.

'Nay, I spotted tha' right away, but tha' still doesn't answer me question, Drake.'

'She 'ad 'er good friend in Singapore tattoo it o'er it. I don't know why but she hated th' brand mark, an' since she loves tattoos she covered it. Not ta mention she also does a spot o' tattooin' 'erself.'

Jack blinked in astonishment. The woman was a tattoo-artist AND a pirate?

'Yer kiddin' me right?' he nudged Drake's side. 'Right…?'

'Hell no, I wouldn't lie 'bout Duville, Jack. It be th' truth, she worked fer a guy called Lee b'fore she joined us in Singapore. I don't know his last name, but everyone calls 'im "The Dragon Man."'

'I heard o' him, apparently 'e's one o' th' best in th' trade.'

'Aye, but so is she, mate. So is she…' Drake spoke the words out slowly, in order to convince Sparrow that he wasn't lying.

'Very well then, I believe ye. But what's wit' tha' odd lookin' dog o' hers? I mean, tha' IS a dog, isn't it?' Jack asked.

'Tha' be quite a long story Jack…'

'Tell me anyway! I'll get this round,' he told Drake as he waved his hand in the air, calling one of the wenches.

'Need more rum here, luv,' he said with his soft melodic voice.

'I can bring ye a lot more than just th' rum, Sir,' the slender girl said seductively.

'Not now luv, be a good lass an' just bring us th' rum. But p'haps I'll take ye up on tha' offer later…' He said as his eyes raked down her slender figure. _Thank God, there are still women attracted ta me. Fer a crazy moment there I thought I had lost me touch_.

He turned his head away from the wench and back towards Captain Drake, waving his hands in front of him, gesturing him to continue.

'Well, we raided a French merchant vessel a few years back an' Dee was one o' th' first ta get 'board. Mind ye, she flung herself o'er by a rope, never could contain herself when it came ta battles. Always runs head first inta danger, she does. First we thought it was her lack o' experience, but she knows all there is ta know 'bout th' Sweet Trade. She's just a thrill seeker, an' patience is not one o' 'er best attributes.

'When she landed on th' deck o' th' ship she was immediately surrounded by four men. An' she smiled, nay not smiled, she was _grinnin'_ like a mad woman. Not yer average lass that one is… An' then when one o' those men 'ad his blade at 'er throat, she reached behind her back an' grabbed th' man's **crown jewels**.'

Jack's face twisted as though he felt the pain as well.

'She nearly castrated 'im, because almost instantly, 'e dropped 'is sword an' fell down. By th' time we got 'board, she 'ad taken out th' four men. Th' first, I just told ye about… she got two others wit' 'er throwin' stars, an' th' third she shot right b'tween th' eyes. An' she had done tha' shot whilst runnin', aimin' 'er gun behind her back. She is without doubt, th' best shot I've e'er seen.' Drake said glowing with pride.

'Well, I see how she is a great asset ta yer crew an' all, but ye still haven't told me 'bout th' dog…' Jack said impatiently, he was very impressed with the story, and wanted to move forward rather than have to show it unknowingly. He knew Drake was not the type to tell him lies, but it just seemed impossible – nay, _improbable – _for a woman to be as Drake described.

'Ah yes, we were too strong fer th' French crew, though they outnumbered us. Devon an' Dacosta went ta search th' ship fer plunder…. When Dacosta came back yellin' fer help ta carry th' cargo – consisting o' fine fabrics, barrels o' wine, an' jewels – Dee was nowhere ta be found. So Shredder was sent ta look fer 'er.'

'Aye,' Shredder said, joining in the narration of the tale. 'An' I looked everywhere fer th' darn woman, especially th' armoury where I searched th' whole room top ta bottom, since she be a collector o' weaponry I figured that's where she would be, but nay, the vixen wasn't in there.

'Almost feared tha' she had been taken by one o' th' bloody French, but then I heard strange noises comin' from behind th' door o' th' quarters next ta th' armoury…. So naturally, I thought Dee was keepin' one o' th' French crewmembers herself fer her ta play her wicked games with. That was until I heard her talk. She spoke in a whole different voice, an' she even GIGGLED fer cryin' out loud!

'An' when I opened th' door, there she was, holdin' a very wrinkled black an' white puppy dog in her arms. It had a small scar on its paw, an' it was lickin' th' wound Dee had gotten fightin' off th' French. An' that be how she got th' _bleedin' mutt_!' When he finished with a flourish, Shredder realised what he had just called Bullet, and quickly looked around, scanning the tavern.

'Relax Shred! She ain't here.' Hoggins taunted.

Jack was amazed. So this hellcat had adopted the dog and had kept it ever since.

'Not like a pirate ta 'ave a pet,' he remarked.

'Well Sparrow, Dee's not like any other pirate ye've ever met. An' she has more pets than just th' Bulldog.' Drake added with a wink towards his men.

**A/N Well I hope you liked this chapter. And I hope you'll like the ones to follow as well. I hope I kept Jack in character, because it's hard to write him. Devon just writes herself, but with Jack it's a whole other story.**

**And please, keep reviewing, because I am very thankful getting feedback!**

**_Now edited – 16/04/05! Xoxo Linnie _**


	6. The Legend

_Disclaimer: Still don't own POTC._

**A/N **

Sorry chapter 5 was a bit on the short side, but to counter that I made this one a bit longer.

Special thanx go out to:

FunkyFlamingo : Glad to hear you say I've kept Jack in character. And I shall continue updating, as long as you keep reading and reviewing. Thanx luv! And Yes, I am really Dutch, but I have some English relative, and they've taught me my first words in English at the age of 2. So they and the BBC have taught me perhaps more than any school could have. And I love reading in English (love the language as well), so I try my best to keep increasing my vocabulary.

ZigZag: Thanx for the compliment, Jack is extremely difficult to write. And you've read between the lines, my dear, because Jack is not at all like the guys Devon seduces...but maybe... (Won't tell... just keep reading and reviewing, means a lot to me).

Linthilde : Should be very interesting indeed. Just haven't got a clue yet 'bout how I am gonna write that... got the plotline in my head, it's just the way to get there that's tricky. But I shall just take it one chapter at a time. Thanx for yer reviews love em!

Leanan Sidhe: We meet again, my lovely! Thanx for the compliments, luv, means the world to me. Devon and Regan share the same passion right? Armoury, think she's got that from ye! They're such a good influence on each other don't ye think? Can't wait for our dear friend PineAppleLint to tell their tale... Thanx for reviewing, pal, for that I shall give our dear Sparrow a kiss from ye after I'm done! ;-)

Sereture: Nice penname (sounds mysterious, love that). So you're German, that makes us practically neighbours! Thanx for your review!

Reviewers like all of you are the icing on my cake!

Please continue to read and review!

Chapter 6

**The Legend**

After she left the tavern, Devon strolled through the narrow streets of Tortuga and headed towards the docks. She walked with her head held high, as always. Bullet walked with its head hung low, for he was sniffing almost every single cobblestone. 'Smellin' th' poodles already are ye?' she wondered with a grin.

Oh, Tortuga... She absolutely loved this place. Here she could be her wicked little self without insulting _too_ many people. She loved the men out here, for she knew they were all here for the same reason she was: to drink, to spend and to get dirty.

But what she found was not what she expected or remembered of this place. The men she had seen so far weren't her type. The one with those gorgeous kohl-rimmed eyes could very well be her type, but after he opened his mouth and came out with that stupid-as-shit pickup line, and she felt the initial fire between them extinguish on the spot. All of that aside, he still had the sexiest eyes she had ever seen in all of her twenty-eight years on this planet.

She could vaguely hear the whores calling out for new customers and ones that were in the midst of satisfying their present customers. It was amusing because normally those sounds aroused Devon, but for some reason hearing the moaning and screaming did not appeal to her this night.

'Ye know what Bullet? We're goin' home ta _The Hazard_, ye an' I, an' we're gonna 'ave a nice long beauty sleep. Ye seems ta get more wrinkles every day, an' since I haven't looked in a mirror lately, God only knows what I be lookin' like.

'But, lemme tell ye, if me face looks th' way I feel, then I can be damn sure th' idiot back in th' Treasure Chest was either really an imbecile or 'e was high on somethin',' she said softly while she stroked her beloved dog.

When Bullet looked up to his mistress, it almost seemed like he winked at her.

_Oh God iffen I be thinkin' like this, p'haps I may be th' one that's high on somethin'... need ta get jus' a lil' sip o' rum. Now where did I put th' darn flask?_ Her throat was already somewhat sore from the liquor that she had earlier in the night, but she needed just a bit more.

'Well if it isn't Devon Duville herself!' a gleeful voice shouted from behind her.

Turning swiftly on her heel she locked eyes with the man that shouted to her.

He was a handsome man, with curly blonde hair that was cut shoulder-length. He had light blue eyes and a manly chin. His sideburns were long and he wore golden earrings. The face looked somewhat familiar, but she couldn't quite recall when she had met him before.

'In th' flesh! How 'ave ye been ehrm...ehrm...' _Hmmm … I truly can't remember th' lad's name, that ought to deflate his ego a bit…_

'It's Remmington, Alec Remmington. You can't honestly say you don't remember my name? Not after what...'

That's all she needed to hear to remember why he remembered her and she couldn't place him. So she cut him off instantly, sparing him, and herself, the explanation he was about to give. 'I didn't say tha' I didn't know yer name, it was jus' tha' I was totally overwhelmed by yer looks tha' I forgot all 'bout it! 'Sides tha', I haven't once in me life claimed ta be honest either, luv.'

_Nice save there Devon_. She smirked, looking him boldly in the eye.

'What brings you here?'

She looked at him raising an eyebrow, 'Duh? Ever heard o' a ship?'

He rolled his eyes. 'That's not what I meant, dear. I mean what is a woman like you doing all by herself wandering the streets o' Tortuga, without any male protection?'

'I be enjoyin' th' scenery, luv. An' I ain't alone, I 'ave Bullet ta keep me company, nor do I any need male protection 'cause I be perfectly capable o' protectin' meself. Maybe it's th' males tha' need protection from lil' ol' me? Ever think o' tha'?' she stated with a smirk.

He found her even more attractive when she acted this way. She was a woman of the world. She seemed unattainable at first, but the first and last time he had seen her, he somehow got through her barricade and she had spent the night with him.

Of course, by the morning, she was no where to be found. Naturally that had left him with somewhat of a bruised ego, but now she was here again and he was sure that he could get her in bed again.

Alec wrapped his arm around Devon's waist and tried to steer her in the direction of the tavern on the right. It was the 'The Treasure Chest.'

'I think we should drink to us, catch up on some things, what say ye?' he said with a husky voice, while he ran his fingers over her face.

'Get yer hands off me I be perfectly capable o' walkin' by me onesies, savvy?' Devon hissed. She hated when men she had slept with before automatically assumed that they could have her again.

After she realized she may have been a little too harsh, she hastened to add, 'All right, jus' buy me tha' drink an' don't touch me until I tell ye tha' ye can,' she said as she strode past him and entered 'The Faithful Bride.' Bullet stayed close to her, as always, and Alec followed them in with a slight frown on his face. 'I thought we would go to the 'Chest.''

He knew his mates were in there and he wanted to show her off. Devon was a very attractive woman and when he had told them he had bedded her before they were impressed to say the least, the ones that believed him that is. If he could've brought her in and then left with her again they'd surely be impressed. Even though the first time he had been with her, it had been her that had the lead. She had practically dragged him out of the tavern and had been in control all night. Naturally that little fact was never part of the story he told his friends.

'Been there, done tha', wasn't all it was cracked up ta be. Rum!'

'Rum?'

'Aye, RUM! Ye said ye'd buy little ol' me a drink, remember?'

Devon let herself fall in a chair, and propped her feet on the table.

'And rum it will be,' Alec said as he waved his hand, calling a wench over to their table.

Alec sat himself down across the table from her, and took some time to study her face. She was still as stunning as when he had first met her. Her skin had gotten a little darker and her hair was a little longer, but she was still the same woman. She even had those leather straps in her braids like she did last time he saw her. But there was something different about her. He couldn't exactly tell what it was, but there was something different.

'What _are_ ye looking at?'

Looking into her eyes, he realised it. 'Yer eyes, the kohl makes them even more alluring.'

_Oh great, now 'e's gonna give me tha' crap 'bout me eyes again. Like I haven't heard tha' one a thousand times b'fore.  
_  
'Thanks, I be quite happy with 'em. After all, without 'em I couldn't see a darn thing,' she said slightly yawning. _God, I really am tired.  
_  
'See ye haven't lost yer sarcasm, Devon. Ye are aware that it is not proper fer a lady to have a tongue as sharp as yers and be that witty,'

'I see no lady 'ere, mate. I be me an' this is who I am. After all, I _am_ Devon Duville, th' most beautiful, sexy, allurin', devilishly gorgeous an' fearsome pirate ta sail th' seven seas.' Devon grinned devilishly.

'Tha' an' I prob'ly was th' best lay ye e'er 'ad,' she added matter-of-factly.

Alec rolled his eyes. Nope, with the exception of the kohl she hadn't changed one bit.

After they had talked for little over an hour, and Devon was slowly falling asleep from sheer boredom. _God, why did I e'er sleep with 'im? 'E's a nightmare when ye actually speak ta 'im… Hmmm… It prob'ly helps tha' I never really talked to th' man last time._ She grinned at the thought. She didn't really care about the quality of the company honestly, if the rum was free, she could act as if he was the most entertaining company she had ever had.

She batted her eyelashes, and lured him into the dangerous deep blue abyss of her eyes. He was grinning like a child in a candy store.

_Oh, I'm such a good actress. _She said to herself.

When she gave him the impression that she would spend the night with him, it made it even more fun to turn him down later. It was a cruel thing to do, very unladylike, but very Devon. That's exactly why she was a pirate, if she were to be sweet, that would make her weak. She had to be cruel. It was her way of life. It was the only way she could stay in charge. That and she had a reputation to keep up.

About half an hour later, she just couldn't stand the handsome man anymore. He was almost drooling over her, staring into her cleavage and not even trying to be discreet about it. But it was only when she saw some saliva drip on the table that she really had enough!

She got up from her chair, walked over to him and pulled him out of his chair.

'I remember our las' encounter all too well, dear Alex, Aloc... erm.. Alec,' she leaned towards him, and pressed her warm lips against his. Before he even knew what hit him she had snaked her tongue down his throat. He grinned into the kiss.

_This woman is so easy, no wonder everyone calls her a whore.  
_  
Then as he leaned in to deepen the kiss, he yelped quickly, nearly jumping out of his chair.

The darn bitch had bitten his tongue, HARD. He tasted his own blood in his mouth and tears stung his eyes.

Of course she stood there grinning like the devil himself had possessed her...

'Whatever made ye think I would spend another nigh' wit' ye? Ye stupid blighter. Ye weren't tha' good th' last time. An' I do have certain rules which I live by,' she hissed. 'Bet ye can guess one … it's tha' I _never_ sleep wit' th' same man twice.'

She pressed her body against his, looking him deep in the eyes. She could see him swallow, and she could feel how badly he had wanted her to be his tonight.

'I be tired. I be goin' ta bed _alone_ tonight. An' don't ye even dare think 'bout followin' me. I'm not always this sweet.'

He opened his mouth to speak but Devon raised her arm, holding the palm of her hand in front of his face 'Talk ta th' hand dear, 'cause th' ears stopped list'nin' hours ago!'

She turned on her heel, her braids whipping around her head in the process, as she made for the door.

'Bullet, heel!' she yelled. The dog immediately got up and followed its mistress out of the tavern, leaving a flabbergasted Alec behind.

She shook her head. _Tha' proves everyone calling me easy is wrong, _she thought to herself.

* * *

Devon took a deep breath, and walked back towards _The Hazard_. When she reached the docks, she saw a large ship anchored beside _The Hazard_. It was made of dark wood, so dark that she could barely see it in the moonlight. 

It was just a little bigger than the ship that she called her home. She walked closer to get a better look. On the bow of the ship she could just make out the form of a lady that held a small bird in her hands as if she was about to let the bird fly for the first time. It seemed like she forgot her drowsiness as she moved even closer to study the mysterious ship.

'Who goes there?' she heard a woman's voice shout to her from the bow of the ship she gazed at.

_I know tha' voice... granted I tend ta forget names quite often, but those are usually th' names o' th' men tha' I bed each time we come ta port. But I ne'er forget a voice, an' can usually see th' face o' th' person in me mind when they speak… Come on… I know I know this woman… Who – Oh shit! It be Ana!  
_  
'Ana? Tha' be ye?' she yelled up to the bow of the ship, since that's where she supposed the voice came from.

'Aye! Who ye be?' the woman answered angrily.

'Tis me, Dee. Devon Duville… Apprentice o' th' Devil an' a bloody good pirate, if I do say so meself.'

She heard footsteps run across the deck of the ship, then she saw a head appear over the railing and look down at her.

'It IS you! Long time no see, spitfire!'

'Same goes for ye. Yer ship certainly grew bigger since I've last seen it. T'was just a small boat back then! 'Ow old is it now?' Devon grinned.

'Ye an' yer strange sense o' humour!' the other woman answered, rolling her eyes in the process. 'An' this beauty ain't mine anyways.'

'What be 'er name, then?'

The other woman leaned further over the railing.

'Ye mean ye've never heard o' 'er?'

'Now Ana darling, 'ow can I tell ye if I've 'eard o' 'er, when I don't know th' ladies name?' Devon was getting tired of this game already.

Ana Maria scraped her throat, then grinned and answered spared her friend the anguish by letting her know exactly what ship this was. Of course, she couldn't help but over-pronounce every word, and letting them linger a bit. 'This, dear friend, is th' one an' only, legendary **Black Pearl**….'

**_Now edited – 16/04/05! Xoxo Linnie _**


	7. Five hundred and nine Black Sheep

_Disclaimer: Nothing has changed, still don't own POTC. But Devon Duville belongs to me! Although she probably will never admit that. She is her own person._

Chapter 7

**Five hundred and nine Black Sheep**

'Th' **Black Pearl**? Th' legendary ship tha' be crewed by th' damned an' captained by a man so evil Hell itself spat 'im back out?' Devon queried as her eyes widened along with her grin.

'Yes, Dee, ye've hit th' nail right on th' knob.'

'Always wanted ta meet th' man, seems like 'e an' I are carved from th' same wood…' Devon mused out-loud.

Her mind was racing._ All th' stories I 'eard 'bout 'im were from th' whores an' th' lovers tha' 'e 'ad left behind. Jus' from them I can tell tha' this man works jus' like I do. We both leave 'em at night an' then they're yearnin' in th' mornin'. _

'_Course I know from personal experience tha' sharin' th' night wit' someone is all too easy, but sharin' them mornin' routines… tha' was hard an' damned tricky. I never stay until sunrise an' neither does Jack Sparrow, or so it was told... Meetin' 'im could be rather interesting. Yes, it could be very interesting indeed._

'_Well, get yer arse on board then! Capt'n never complains when women are eager ta meet him. Has quite th' reputation, he does. Come ta think of it, his reputation is similar ta yers. I've heard th' tales 'bout ye in almost every port tha' we dock at,' Ana Maria shouted back._

Devon gloated to herself. It seems that her reputation did precede her.

'Unfortunately I'll have ta pass fer t'night. I be shot ta Hell, Ana. Unless yer settin' sail in th' mornin' … then I'll put me gettin' some shut-eye on hold.'

'No need fer that, Dee, we're stayin' here fer a few more days. Gotta do some repairs an' get some more supplies. Not ta mention tha' our Capt'n seems ta like it here fer some strange reason…' Ana replied and winked at Devon even though she knew Devon couldn't see it.

Devon grinned. _Aye, Ana I've heard quite a few stories 'bout yer Cap'n tha' I could wager why 'e wants ta stay….  
_  
'I bet 'e does. I'd best be off, but will see you tomorrow. Meet me in th' Treasure Chest?'

'Aye, spitfire, I'll be there, we've got quite a bit ta catch up on. What ship are ye on by th' way?'

'I be a part o' th' crew o' _Th' Hazard_, captained by Isaac Drake. Our ship is anchored next ta yer lovely Pearl. Gotta go now, sweet dreams, Ana Maria!'

'G'night Dee.'

Devon waved her hands in the air wildly to say goodbye to her friend, then walked with Bulled back to _The Hazard_.

She got undressed quickly and jumped into her so-called bed. She soon found that she just couldn't help thinking about Jack Sparrow, the infamous Captain of the Black Pearl.

'E_ be as legendary as 'is ship an' from th' stories I've heard 'bout 'im, 'e seems ta be quite th' womanizer. Hmmm … wouldn't it be fun ta beat 'im at 'is own game? I could lure 'im in an' then 'ave me wicked way with 'im. Not a bad idea really. 'Sides, I need ta find out if th' stories I keep hearin' 'bout 'im are true. Now I know tha' I be damned good… but 'is reputation needs ta be verified by a knowledgeable woman, not jus' th' local whores….  
_  
She let her thoughts wander as she rolled herself in the blankets and closed her eyes. She waited for sleep to claim her. But it didn't. She rolled over to her other side, and sighed when she realised that this wasn't exactly comfortable. _Ta Hell wit' it! If it gets me ta sleep I don't give a damn! _She closed her eyes again and tried to sleep.

Nothing.

How it is possible that she could be this tired and not be able to fall asleep? She adjusted her pillow, and fell back onto it. She closed her eyes once more.

Still nothing...  
  
This was really starting to get frustrating, seeing how tired she really was. She rolled over again, and attempted to get some sleep.

Then Bullet snored loudly. _Damn ta th' blazes, Bullet is fast asleep an' is makin' damn sure tha' I hear it! God, I could've sworn tha' Bullet 'ad ne'er snored this loudly before…._

She sighed and took the pillow from under her head and pushed it in her face. She closed her eyes once again.

Nothing!

She was still awake! _'Ow is this possible! I be more tired than I've ever been in me life, yet I can't seem ta get any shut-eye…. Bloody ridiculous. _

_Maybe I shouldn't 'ave drank tha' much. Tha' damned rum makes me so sleepy after only havin' consumed jus' a lil' too much, but then I can never get ta sleep as fast as I normally can. Damn th' bloody rum. Damn th' bitter-sweet, temptin' liquor fer even existin'. Damn meself fer lovin' it so much. Damn Heaven an' Hell fer not lettin' me get me well-deserved sleep.  
_  
Bullet snored louder than even the pillow could deaden. Now she was really getting pissed, she was BEAT and she needed her sleep. Now why wouldn't the sweet dreams claim her like always? Couldn't they just take her away to places she had never been, and sweep her into sweet, sweet oblivion?  
_  
Damn! Maybe I should've drank tha' lil' extra bit back at th' tavern… I could've 'ad some 'ere but me damned flask is bloody empty! Damn it all fer not havin' an extra stash on th' ship jus' in case. Damn th' rum fer causin' me this much trouble!  
_  
The name of one Jack Sparrow kept lingering in her mind. Maybe that was why she couldn't sleep.

_Might as well sing… it could 'elp…_ she said to herself. She knew that she wouldn't wake anyone if she did anyway.

The only soul nearby was Bullet, and he could sleep through cannon fire. _P'haps that's 'cause 'is snorin' is even louder than th' cannon fire… 'Sides th' only crewmembers left on Th' Hazard are on deck, takin' th' night watch… Everyone else is out gettin' entertainment in any way, shape or form._

So she started singing softly and watching the shimmering lights that lit the ceiling and the wooden walls of her bunk. It was the moonlight that reflected off the waves, shining brightly into the dark room and dancing across the wood above her.

It was almost like magic how the lights glistened on the surface. It was just like little sparks from a white/blue fire had made their way to her quarters. It was such a beautiful sight... She loved those lights and she loved he slight swaying of the ship.

Devon sang quietly with her soft and melodic voice, she didn't use that voice very often. She mostly sang shanties, and when she sang those she used her hard voice. But even people like Devon have a softer side, although she hardly ever showed it. She could sing quite well as a matter of fact. The singing rose in volume just the slightest bit, and she could hear her voice lingering in the air...

She kept singing with her eyes closed, just relishing the music and the swaying of the ship, until she opened them again to look at the magical light once more. Devon sung softly, counting sheep. Black sheep.

When she reached the number of 509 she yawned and looked up at the ceiling, and saw that the blue/white lights that had lit her room before were gone and instead there were lights of pink and orange.

Devon cursed the sun, for she knew it had won again.

**A/N Thanx to all my lovely readers and thanx for all the wonderful reviews. I love all of you!**

**Keep reading and reviewing and I shall keep updating, savvy?**

_**Now edited – 17/04/05! Xoxo Linnie **_


	8. From One Headache To Another

_Disclaimer: Don't own POTC, don't own Jack Sparrow weeps silent tears at night because she doesn't… But I do own The Hazard, Devon Duville and all the other stuff that unfortunately didn't make the movie. But that's not my fault now is it?_

**A/N I would like to welcome all you new reviewers to this wonderful story I call my own. Thanx for all your lovely reviews. And to all of my other dear readers who have been on board for a while longer, thanx to all of you as well. Reading your reviews make me sleep better at night. Although now I suffer a bit of insomnia, for you make me update so frequently. Hope I can keep the story going in the right direction. And I hope I can make it better chapter after chapter!**

Thanx ever so much!

_Chapter 8_

**From One Headache to Another**

Devon sat upright in her bed, rubbing her temples and trying, in vain, to actually get some sleep. However, she was finding that rather impossible when with this massive headache that was rolling through her brain like dark thunder clouds right before a big storm. Maybe it was her lack of sleep, maybe it was the rum.

_Might jus' be th' rum_… she thought. Of course the sounds of her loud, snoring dog didn't help current problem. It only seemed to make the pain even worse.

'Bullet will you stop snoring already!' she yelled.

_Oh god, don't ye start screamin' Dee… ye know tha' it'll only make matters worse._ She searched her nightstand for a mirror. She was positive that she had it lying around somewhere. She had stolen a purse from an upper-class lady once and just when she thought the thing wouldn't be any use to her, since there was no money in it, she found a small mirror with rubies encrusted in it hidden in one of its many pockets. She had liked it, so she kept it.

_After all, wha' was a lady without a mirror ta check 'er visage, eh?_

Ah, there it was. She was almost afraid to look into it… but she steeled her nerves. Hell, she'd been through much worse than this before … it's just a little mirror.

'Oh my… Me hair makes Medusa's snakes seem tame, not ta mention th' tiny lit'le fact tha' I look like a bunch o' wild horses dragged me through th' mud an' then 'ad a herd o' donkeys lick th' mess off me face! Damnit all ta Hell, I look bloody awful!' she wailed. There was kohl all over her face, bags the size of eggs under her reddened eyes and her hair … well she'd have to deal with that later when she could think straight without making her head feel as though someone was trying to drive a peg into it with a sledgehammer.

She decided to go wash her face, at least that way she'd clean up the kohl streaks and maybe, just maybe, the large bags under her dry red eyes would go away. She stumbled towards the galley with only a sheet wrapped around her body to find some water and soap. Suddenly, she found the passage was blocked by none other than Dacosta.

'Wild night, eh?' he grinned while he looked at the muscular woman in the sheet. As his flickered down over her barely-covered body, he realised he could see her scars and tattoos slightly stand out underneath the white of the blanket.

He felt a shiver run down his spine. He chanced another look at her body and noticed that saw she had more tattoos than he and the other members of _The Hazard's_ crew had counted on. _Good thin' I never placed tha' bet on 'ow many tattoos she's got… I woulda lost badly.  
_  
He tried desperately not to look at her chest, but he found that he just couldn't help himself. His eyes had a mind of their own… and they wanted to take in all that they could in this particular moment. When he saw that he could make out the dark hardness of her nipples, he swallowed hard.

Of course Devon had noticed where Dacosta's grey eyes were wandering, no matter how much he had tried to hide it the first two times. Though it was kind of hard to miss now, he was openly gawking at her … all he needed was his mouth to drop open and drool to come out of his mouth. Considering the state she was in right now, she couldn't care less.

'Try _no nigh' _at all, luv!' she said with a hoarse voice.

'Ye should take pity on th' poor guy ye left this morning dear, if ye look this way one can only wonder how he looks…'

Devon gave a small grin despite the ache that was wreaking havoc in her head.

'There was no man last nigh', at least not one tha' I've spent it with at any rate, t'was just me.'

'No man? Devon Duville sets foot in her beloved Tortuga after a long journey an' there was no man on her first night back? Must be losin' yer touch, Dee…'

'Keep blabberin' on like tha' Dacosta an' I'll formally introduce ye ta th' barrel o' me barker…' she said rubbing her temples again. 'An' would ye stop wit' th' loud noises?'

'Random headache or hangover?' he asked studying her face.

'A bit o' both I s'pose… didn't get much sleep last night an' I coulda had a bit more rum than I shoulda had. Now if ye'll jus' excuse me I need ta freshen up a bit. Let's see if I can turn this lovely face back in what it ought ta look like.'

She pushed past Dacosta and stumbled into the galley where she drenched a somewhat clean cloth into some cold water. She washed her face and pressed the wet cloth over her eyes. She slumped onto one of the benches at a large table and let herself fall back.

She felt her back hit against the cool wood of the table and she tried to clear her mind. _Maybe I should stop drinkin' tha' blasted rum an' switch ta th' absinthe 'gain_… she thought to herself. At least then she would have the comfort of the green fairy claiming her for her wicked mind games and she would certainly be taken into a blissful oblivion.

But then again the green venom's liquor always got her aroused, which dragged out even more of Dee's darker side. _No, th' green fairy messed wit' me heart too much even then. Th' rum just messes a lit'le with me mind.  
_  
'Damn th' bloody rum,' she sighed.

Jameson was watching his female crewmate as he walked in to check the food supplies.

'Dee, are ye alright, luv?' he asked with concern in his voice.

'Aye, it's jus' tha' me head won't stop poundin' somethin' terrible an' on top o' tha' I've got ta meet an old friend today…'

'Maybe ye should try gettin' some more sleep, Dee.'

'_More_ sleep? I ne'er slept a bleedin' minute last night, Jamie…'

'What poor soul did ye devour then last night, luv?'

'Fer Hell's sake, there was _no_ man! I slept by meself last nigh', or at least I tried to…. I don't see why this is so hard fer ye all ta comprehend!' Devon hissed back to him.

'In that case I'll make ye a strong coffee luv, maybe it won't help with yer headache, but at least it'll yet ye over yer lack of sleep.'

Devon nodded, the cloth still pressed over her eyes. _I'm sure I could use th' coffee... tho' it might not help if it's a hangover. If it was a hangover however, then this would have to be the worst one she's ever had.  
_  
After two large mugs of pure black coffee she felt a little better… that was a good sign at least. The headache was still lingering, but at least she didn't feel as wretched as she had before consuming the hot, wonderful black fluid.

She was sat there idly, running her fingers around the top of the mug, humming to herself again, when Shredder popped his head around the corner of the galley's entrance.

Dee, there be a _lady_ 'ere ta see ye.' When Shredder said _lady_ he winked at her. 'She's from th' Pearl.' he added.

'Show her in … she be an old friend o' mine.'

AnaMaria walked in looking at the woman sitting at the dark wooden table, her legs folded underneath her.

'Dee? What ails ye lass?'

'Hangover, I s'pose…' Devon responded flatly.

'I almost thought ye forgot all 'bout our appointment. Been waitin' fer over an hour ye know. I told th' Capt'n ye wanted ta meet him…'

'Shite!'

Devon got up slowly and walked towards her friend. She put her hands on the other woman's shoulders.

'Stall 'im. I'll be there in half an hour.'

'Won't have ta do much stallin', th' wenches at "Th' Treasure Chest" have pretty much claimed him, so there's really no need fer ye ta hurry. He ain't goin' anywhere fer a while.' Ana told her friend with a smirk on her tanned face.

'Well, ye'd best be off then, I won't be too long, luv,' Devon replied and she returned to her quarters again.

When she got back it was only to find that Bullet was still fast asleep. _Really, how much sleep did such a small dog need?  
_  
She let the sheet that had covered her fall down to the ground and slipped into her black breeches. No knickers. She hadn't been lying the other night, considering the fact that she really didn't have one decent pair left. Since sewing and mending were never her favourite pastimes she had just thrown them all overboard. She had been afraid that if she had just thrown them away with the garbage on board, someone would have seen them and then they would undoubtedly make their way around the crew to satisfy their perverted little fantasies. No matter the case, it remained that she really had to go and get new knickers for herself. Red ones maybe? Maybe Ana knew of a place where she could get new ones.

She pulled one of her tunics over her head and started to assemble and equip her weapons after she buckled her belt. After tucking in the daggers, pistols and her throwing stars, she sheathed her cutlass and put on her black sea boots.

She left her leather vest where it was, the heat of the Caribbean sun was damp and almost too hot to bare in this season. Besides she liked the wind blowing in her blouse. She stood in front of her small mirror putting on the kohl again. _If th' men like th' kohl, who would I be ta disappoint? _She smirked._  
_  
She wasn't really a vain woman, but she did like looking better than the average woman and whore. There was never much makeup for her, but it was the kohl that she couldn't do without. Being outside as much as she was, the kohl helped her to see better in the bright sun. That and it gave her an even more mysterious look than she already had. It was a nice little added bonus.

'All standin'!' she said to Bullet, but the dog just continued snore loudly.

**'Bullet ye scurvy mangy cad! Wake th' hell up!'**

The dog didn't even move when she yelled at him.

She shook the dog with the nose of her boots but all it did was turn over again, regaining its old position. **'BULLET HEEL!'** she yelled. The dog raised its head.

'There now, was tha' so hard ta do?'

She leashed her dog and walked up the stairs, across the deck, off the gangplank, over the docks and onto the cobblestone streets of Tortuga.

A few sailors whistled at her and she bowed at them, letting her braided hair touch the ground, grinning mischievously.

She saw them nudging each other and she could make out "Duville" from their lips.

Her grin got wider. This was stroking her ego.

Her eyes were drawn to the dark ship again. It was a beautiful ship. She recognised it now, fully lit by the sun. The wood was very dark, almost black. Strange how she hadn't recognised it instantly last night, but then again she had been quite drunk and tired to boot.

The bird in the woman's arms was a sparrow… that much she'd figured out last night. _What else could it be?_ She grinned to herself. The legendary _Black Pearl_ was slightly swaying in its mooring. And now she was about to meet its legendary captain.

She opened the door of "The Treasure Chest" and promptly scanned the room for Ana. Her friend was sitting with a man wearing a tricorn-hat and was wildly waving his hands in the air. _Must be tellin' one hell o' a story_, she thought.

This must be the infamous Jack Sparrow. Who else would it be? There was a wench was sitting on his lap, and she giggled like a child at whatever story the man was apparently in the middle of.

'Dee!' Ana shouted. She waved her hands and gestured for Dee to come over to their table.

Devon slowly made her way through the crowd towards the table that Ana and her Captain were sitting at.

'Jack, I want ye to meet a good friend o' mine,' AnaMaria said poking her captain in the ribs.

'That be _Captain_ Jack, luv. Really how often do I have ta tell people?' he said with a little exasperation in his soft melodic voice.

_I know I've heard tha' voice before, but where? When? I know I've ne'er met Captain Jack Sparrow, but his voice sounds so familiar… and I ne'er forget a voice. A face maybe, but ne'er a voice. Maybe I'm jus' hearin' thin's. Men are all alike … I ne'er remember all th' men I meet. Hell, I barely remember most o' th' men tha' I sleep with. _Her mind was raced over everything about this man once again and she was pulled out of her thoughts as she felt a raw hand touch her face._  
_  
She looked up and found herself staring into a pair of very familiar, kohl rimmed eyes...

''Ello luv! Ye never gave me th' opportunity ta formally introduce myself ye know.'

'**You?**' Devon asked astonished.

'Ye mean ye two know each other?' AnaMaria asked in shock.

'So it would seem,' Jack answered matter-of-factly.

Devon looked from Ana to Jack and then from Jack to Ana, as if she could find answers in either their eyes or in the space that separated them.

'But this can't be. Ye've got ta be kiddin' me!'

'Nope, not kiddin' ye luv. But I could think o' numerous other things tha' I'd like ta do ta ye…' he grinned devilishly.

_**Now edited – 29/10/05! xoxo Linnie**_


	9. Treading On Dangerous Grounds

Disclaimer: Me own nothing. It's a cruel, cruel world.

**A/N: First I want to thank the wonderful Linthilde for the help with this chapter. I can officially call her my BETA now (and my extra pair of eyes, my external memory, the misses that keeps my on my toesies and my personal dictionary). And luv? I need your help with the next chapters as well... (cue wicked grin on face)**

**THANX LUV! **

**And many thanks to all of you lovely reviewers! Means so much to me...**

_Chapter 9_

**Treading On Dangerous Grounds**

Dee couldn't believe the idiot the other night had been no other than the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow himself. What a major disappointment. The tales she had heard led to believe he was a smart and witty man, able to wrap most women around his finger. This - however attractive - man was nothing like that at all. How could she even have thought of seducing him, eager to find out if those stories were true?

'Well I see now that that was all just a load of BULL,' she said louder than intended.

'Pardon?' Jack asked.

She ignored him.

Devon looked at her friend, 'Ye sure yer not on something, Ana? This is really him?'

AnaMaria nodded.

'Might as well face the music than, eh?' Dee said with a small grin on her face. She knew leaving now would give the appearance she had been eager to meet him, and that meeting him last night had been the cause for her early departure. **Hell no**, she was staying, if only to talk to AnaMaria.

'That mean the lovely lady wishes to dance?' Jack said grinning.

'The wisest thing fer ye to do right now, Sparrow, is to pipe down,' Dee hissed, rolling her eyes.

She sat herself down in a comfortable looking chair. She heaved herself up a bit and folded her legs underneath her. Ana looked at the older woman. 'How's the headache?'

'Better thanks, much better.'

Jack smirked looking at the woman. One can only wonder what she got into last night.

'Anyone care for a drink?' he said waving his hands in front of Devon's face.

'What's with yer hands, mate? Can't seem to control them, can ye?'

Ana leaned over and whispered in Devon's ear that the wild gesturing was part of the Captain's nature.

'Very well then. As long as he just keeps waving them and doesn't start slapping or pulling triggers its fine by me.'

'Ahem! A drink anyone?' Jack repeated the question impatiently.

'If it means yer buyin, we'll have rum thank ye very much.'

'I never said I was buyin, ye saucy tart!'

'In my book, the man who asks is the man who pays. Simple as that!'

Jack rolled his eyes, reaching for his gun.

'Wouldn't want to be doing that, mate,' Devon said calmly.

'That's were you're wrong, luv. I really want to.'

'Suit yerself then, but I must tell ye, no one shoots better or faster than Devon Duville, not even a sad excuse for a Capt'n such as yerself. When ye get ta pull that trigger, it'll be when yer muscles start ta spasm after my bullet has hit ye.'

Jack wanted to retort to her insult, but he just muttered something under his breath as he walked towards the bartender.

'Long toes that man has, Ana. I cannot believe ye put up with his temper,' Devon grinned.

'Yer evil Dee,' Ana retorted.

'Gift from nature, dear.'

Both woman laughed as Jack returned with a bottle and three cups of rum.

'Now I want some answers Duville.'

'Depends on what ye want ta know. I shall not reveal secrets to the likes of ye that I've kept hidden for so long. Better to keep the illusion sometimes. You'll have ta agree with me on that. I bet ye're great at that, since some women are actually anxious ta get into bed with ye. Wonder why that is. Or do ye use witchcraft instead of illusions?' Devon looked him boldly in the eye raising an eyebrow.

'Woman! Will ye just keep yer bleedin' mouth shut for once? Or do I have ta gag ye in order ta keep ye quiet?'

'I wonder how ye intend ta get some answers then? I mean I'm not good at giving answers when I have ta mime them.'

Jack really got pissed now. The nerve that woman had. He just wanted to beat her, or kill her or do whatever it took the shut her up. But he decided she might like pain or torture – probably did, given her reputation – so he decided to try and ignore her. _How could a woman who looked that hot be such a pain in the arse?  
_  
He turned his head to Ana, switching the conversation in an attempt to control his temper. 'Ana, mind telling me how you know the illustrious Devon Duville?'

'Aye, when we were younger Devon worked in a bar close to where I lived when I was but a girl and our parents knew each other so we became...'

'Ye mean Miss Duville here was a **wench** once?' Jack interrupted Ana in the midst of her sentence.

Now was the time for Dee to do the interrupting. 'Hell no! I tended the bar and I sang at night! I never slept with customers!' she cursed herself for telling him this and she cursed Ana for not lying about their acquaintance.

'Well ye tend to do lots of that now don't ya?' Jack shot back. Then he realised something and his eyes widened, '**Ye sing?**'

Ana answered before Dee could, 'Aye Jack, she's got a magnificent voice.'

Devon's eyes shot fire. 'Thanks very much Ana! You've just killed the reputation I've worked so hard on!'

Jack grinned, 'I suppose ye danced as well?'

'Yer treading on dangerous grounds here, Sparrow.' Devon gave him her most venomous glare she could muster.

'So that's a yes?' Jack grinned mischievously.

'If ye don't shut that hole in yer face I will think it very tempting for me not to put another one in there!' Devon couldn't stand the man. _The arrogance, the way he looked at her, it made her sick. How could any woman fall for this man?  
_  
Jack grinned with an expression that seemed to say 'You wound me, dear,' and held his palms together as to apologise.

Devon decided to completely ignore him.

'So Ana, how did ye get aboard the idiot's ship then, and whatever happened to yer own boat?'

'He stole it! And seeing how he still owes me a boat, I decided to join his crew. And not long after that, I became his first mate'.

'Ah, one can never sit too close to the fire, right? I mean, he could get killed some day, and then who would captain the ship?' Devon answered trying desperately to ignore Jack who had lost interest in all other women in the tavern and was looking at Devon, at **ALL** of Devon there was to look at.

There she starts her blabberin' again. The woman's got a tongue like a razorblade. He couldn't believe he had been attracted to her the other night. Oh right, he remembered why, it was because she hadn't opened her mouth that often. Oh, but what a wonderful mouth she had... those lips were like cherries. Oh God, Jack. Control yerself, the wench ain't worth it! But her eyes, her breasts, her lips... they all called out to him.

Look at him drooling over me, while his eyes shoot daggers. Stupid blighter! Hush now Dee, don't let him know that he's pissing ye off like that! Don't let yer temper get the better of ye, Dee. The idiot doesn't deserve that. Ignore him, just ignore him... But somehow there was just something about him was a huge turn-on...

'How 'bout ye?', Ana asked and Devon snapped back into reality.

'Huh?'

'What happened to ye since Port au Prince?'

Devon told her what had happened to her since they had last seen each other. She recounted tales about Drake, about the pilfering she had done, the men she had been with and how she had become one of the best tattoo- artists as she learned the trade from Lee Yu-Wan, the Dragon Man.

'You are the woman that worked for him then? You are the Dragon Lady? The one that used to work in Singapore until a couple of years ago?'

Devon nodded, 'Yes, that would be yours truly.'

'Is that how ye got that dragon on yer arm?'

'Yup, I got branded a year before I met Lee and asked him to tattoo over it. I don't mind scars, but brand marks I strongly dislike. And after all, it's not proper fer a lady to have a P branded on her arm.'

'Dee, do you think it's proper fer a lady to have as many tattoos as ye've got?' Ana queried smiling.

Devon shrugged her shoulders. 'Honestly never gave that much thought. Don't give a shit either. I like my tattoos and I'm proud of every single one.' Looking over at Sparrow, she saw that his jaw had dropped at her comments and when she identified the look in his eyes she hissed. 'And don't even try picturing me naked in search for more tattoos!'

'A woman of many talents, that much I've heard. But ye also sing?' Jack had decided to butt-in to the conversation.

Dee couldn't contain herself any longer. 'Yes, many talents indeed. Talents you'll never witness yerself, Sparrow. All except for my biggest talent that is, I could show ye that if it suits yer fancy.'

Jack eagerly looked her in the eye 'What talent would that be, dear? Does it involve ye and I to get naked?'

'If ye want to get naked, by all means. But it would be a bit odd fer a Captain to die that way. I can kill ye at a 30 ft distance, eyes blindfolded and I would shoot ye straight through yer heart, dear,' she batted her eyelashes and pouted her cherry lips.

'That's impossible!' Jack shouted. 'No man can shoot that good, let alone a WOMAN!'

Devon rolled her eyes. 'See that spider on the wall over there?' She pointed her index finger at the nasty insect.

'Aye,' Ana and Jack nodded.

Devon stood up walking towards the other side of the bar.

'She can't be serious. She's gonna kill someone,' Jack said looking at Ana.

'She's serious all right. Dee can't stand men underestimating her.'

Devon closed her eyes pulled out her silver pistol, lifted her hand and pulled the trigger. A shot was fired, and there was now a hole in the wall where the spider had been. Jack couldn't believe his eyes.

Devon walked back to the table and gracefully fell into her chair, turning to Sparrow and smirking, 'Ye were saying?'

'Improbable, luv, sayin it was improbable fer anyone ta shoot as good as ye obviously do.'

'Case closed then,' Dee said with her trademark grin back on her face. _Sure proved him wrong she thought._

Several hours had passed and the _Hazard's_ crew and _the Pearl's_ crew had joined them in the Treasure Chest.

'Dee? Can't ye sing tonight? Ye know for old time's sake?' Ana asked the older woman pouting.

'No there's no way in Hell I'm getting back on stage again! Never!'

Somehow Stevens and Dacosta had overheard the conversation.

'Oh Dee, you must! Please sing to us, but don't sing chanteys, for ye only screw those up.'

'First bring me more rum, then I'll see what I can do fer ye pathetic simpletons.'

A few more hours and several empty bottles later...

_I should really stop drinking the blasted rum.  
_  
**'And now, The Treasure Chest proudly presents Devon Duville.'**

Devon could see Sparrow gloating, probably thinking she'd back down. Hell, she thought she'd refused, but in spite of all her efforts she stood on the stage and the crowd just crew bigger and bigger. They yelled, whistled and made obscene gestures, and her crewmembers were possibly the worst amongst all the men. Then there was Sparrow, just sitting there waiting for her to screw up. She couldn't think straight, was this stage fright? _Come on Dee, ye've done this hundreds of times before, its just like learning to swim, once yer back in the water, ye instantly know what ta do._

She started singing:

Devon sang a song about how she'd never become any ones wife. The words seemed to come from her heart and she sang them with a passion.

So Devon closed her eyes. The men didn't bother her in the least, she was used to being in the centre of attention, she knew how their perverted minds worked, but Sparrow... his eyes... There were sparks in his eyes, unpredictable ones, and for some reason she couldn't creep inside his mind. _Hell, how did that happen?  
_  
Devon slowly walked around, sitting herself down on a few laps, looking seductively into the eyes of strangers. _Hell. She was enjoying herself._ She hadn't sung in front of a crowd in a long time.

And with that the crowd was applauding, whistling and going bananas. Devon gave a weak smile.

'We want more, we want more!' her crewmates yelled.

'All right, one more ye shall have,' Devon yelled and grinned back at them. She walked up to the man sitting behind the piano and whispered something in his ear. She strolled through the bar towards Jack Sparrow.

The next song she sang was a song about love, the only love she was able to give was skin deep… no one would ever touch her soul.

Devon stopped in front of him, pulling away the wench hat was in his lap, and taking her place. She looked him deep in the eye, and he swallowed.

She sang close to his ear, he could feel her breath down the side of his face. He was drawn into her dark blue eyes. He saw the green flecks glisten. He could tell that she was slightly drunk. Still, he just couldn't keep his eyes of her. How's that, Sparrow? You can't stand the woman, she's annoying, egotistical, cruel, a genuine Hellcat, but still... the woman turned him on. Big Time!

After she pulled the strumpet away from him, she sat in his lap face to face with the man that could very well be the nails in her coffin. But there was something about him that made her blood run cold. His eyes, it was as if they could see right through her. Something about those eyes aroused her, despite herself.

Devon let the fingers of her left hand trace his beard and his nose wiggled from the tickling sensation. She smiled seductively digging the nails of her right hand deep into the flesh from the hand that he had placed on her bum.

Then she got up and walked to another man, she did the same routine (except from the digging the nails part) to him, but the routine proved to have less enjoyment._ Less enjoyment? What the blazes was goin' on?_

_  
_Devon kept singing, but she could feel the dark kohl-rimmed eyes follow her cross the room. His eyes burned her skin. Dee tried to focus on the song, but she couldn't get rid of the strange feeling in her stomach. It was an ache, a craving, a strong desire. It was unmistakably...lust. A feeling she was so familiar with, but it felt so strange now.

She walked seductively towards the bar and crawled on top of it, she was acting like a tiger trying to attack its prey. She was back in charge, and thoroughly enjoying the power she had over men. But one look in Sparrow's direction and she could feel the leashes being taken from her hands into his. _Damn, how could this happen?_ She fought the feelings Sparrow's eyes had given her. She crawled towards an unfamiliar face. 'Any face was better than **HIS**!' she thought, singing the words with as much determination she could muster. _Don't let him win, Dee. You be in charge, you can fight this_. She focused again on the man in front of her to take her mind off Sparrow and his damned eyes ... As Dee sang to him, a timid grin appeared on the man's face. She could see his yellow teeth showing. Good thing too, she needed distraction. The arousal Sparrow's eyes had given her the need to kill those feelings instantly.

She finished her song and let herself slide off the bar when raw, dirty hands grabbed her by the arm.

'You and I need to have a little talk, don't ya think?'

'Sparrow!'

'That's Captain, luv.'

'Whatever, Sparrow, just get yer bloody hands off me.'

Jack turned her around, twisting her arm behind her back, shoving her in front of him towards the stairs that led to the bedrooms. Devon struggled to get out of his grip, kicking wildly around her. Her struggles were futile, he had an iron grip.

'Ye can fight Devon Duville, but ye can't win against yer own desires.'

_Damn to the Blazes, how could he have possibly known?  
_  
'I know you want me and I happen want ye too, so let's just give in, eh?'

Devon felt her heart jump in her throat. _She wanted to, oh God she really wanted to – despite what her mind and her pride was telling her – but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of having her cornered. And even if that meant also declining herself from getting her own satisfaction, so be it.  
_  
'No, Sparrow. That's where ye're mistaken. I like ta play and screw with yer mind a bit, but that's all there is to it.' She reached for her dagger with her free hand and swiftly turned around, pressing the cool blade against his throat.

'Such harsh words from such lovely lips. And there ye go bringing **screwing** up yerself,' he said hoarsely. His eyes never lost track of hers.

'Get used to the harsh words, that's all you'll ever get from me,' she said more huskily than she meant to. Fire was raging through her body and her blue eyes glistened.

Jack pulled her towards him, grinning like a madman, looking down at her chest. 'Dee, are those bullets in yer blouse, or are ye that glad to see me?'

'Actually, Sparrow, those ARE bullets, golden ones. Made from my engagement ring!'

He raised an eyebrow, 'Ye mean, you were engaged?'

'Yup, but I got rid of the ball and chain. Ye didn't know? Thought ye knew all about me. Seems like ye judge the book by its cover too often, Sparrow.'

'And some nice cover ye have, Duville.'

'I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person, Sparrow.'

She suddenly realised the silence around them and as she turned her head, she saw everyone holding their breath, sitting on the tips of their chairs.

'Kiss 'im already, Dee!' Shredder yelled, first to break the silence.

'Yeah, kiss the man!'

Dee grinned wickedly. 'Well, I could give ye a sort of farewell kiss, I s'pose. I see no harm in that, besides I always wanted to know what a fool tastes like.'

She gently took her dagger from his throat and tucked it away in her belt.

Sparrow grinned as he leaned in to kiss her. She leaned in as well and she felt his tongue searching eagerly for hers. There was no gentleness, just eagerness and a desperate attempt to control the evolving erupting passion. Both sides wanted to be in command. Devon felt all her guards fall down, no barriers, no borders; she finally gave in. She gave in to the most passionate and venomous kiss she had ever had shared with anyone before.

And she could tell he'd done the same. He pulled her closer to him as she bit his lip lightly. She could hear him moaning her name and she broke away. Jack dipped her low; her black braids touching the ground. It felt as if they were dancing without music, their bodies were drawn to each other. He pulled her back up, looking her in the eye with more hunger than she had ever seen before. _Damn, it was so hard to resist this man, so hard to ignore the hunger inside of her._

Jack on the other hand wanted to give in to the lust that had aroused him to an all time high. He tried to ignore the warning signs that popped up in his head. The woman was a man eater just like he was a womanizer, she was such a tease, such a nuisance, yet she felt so right.

**A/N So... there you have it! Dangerous grounds indeed. Now please REVIEW!**

**May good things happen to those who review. The good thing will be... getting another chapter, possibly even more...**


	10. Desperate measures

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from POTC or the characters and I never will. I only enjoy writing them. I do, however, claim ownership on Devon Duville, The Hazard and its crew and all the other stuff you didn't get to see in the movie._

**A/N: **

**Once again I thank the wonderful and amazing recently auburn haired Linthilde for helping me with my chapters, bringing inspiration when I suffered writers block and for keeping me sharp! Thanx luv! Where the devil would I be without you?**

**And I would like to thank al my wonderful readers and reviewers for sticking with me!**

Chapter 10

**Desperate Measures**

Devon suddenly pushed him aside – breaking away from the best kiss ever and ignoring the passion that pumped through her veins. Hell she was ignoring her body all together. She couldn't go through with it... even though she wanted to. God knows she wanted to...

'There, all done. Show's over folks, nothing more ta see here,' she said with as much determination in her voice as she could muster.

_My God, if the man's as good between the sheets as he is a kisser, I've just made one hell of a mistake._

Jack wasn't about to give up so easily though and grabbed her wrists once more, 'Just where do ye think ye are ye goin, lass? I don't think we're done yet.' His face showed an impression that displayed disappointment, horniness and anger all at once.

'I'm goin' where ever these gorgeous legs'll take me – unless something unexpected comes in... erm I mean up! And I happen ta think we are quite done, Sparrow. At least, I'm through with you. Goodbye," she said icily, walking away from the man that has just given her more fulfilment in a single kiss than any other man had ever done with any of their body parts.

That one kiss had made her weak, loose her guard, and loose her mind all in that single moment. She had to escape, needed to break free and regain control over the situation, before it was too late.

She walked towards a relatively handsome man.

'Your turn, lad,' she said taking his hand and dragging him towards the upstairs chambers. The man eagerly stood up to follow this gorgeous woman to wherever she was going.

'Here's where the fun really starts, Sparrow,' she said flatly, eyes shining with amusement as she walked past him towards the staircase.

_At least, she hoped she was keeping her amused façade well, because she did not like the idea of her true emotions showing at that particular moment._

Jack stood there completely by himself cursing this Hellcat for existing, cursing himself for falling into her trap, and cursing the feelings that had erupted from deep within him.

'Enjoy yerself then lass,' he shouted after her as he wrapped his arms around the waist of the first strumpet that walked by.

'I know I will,' he murmured, his eyes twinkling with mischief, while kissing the girl he held on her neck.

She hadn't heard his last comment, nor did she want to. She was already at the top of the stairs, her mind on things other than Sparrow's inane ramblings, as she dragged the man into a room. She ripped his clothes off, as she was determined to get satisfaction one way or the other. But instead of having fun doing what she thought she enjoyed best, she found herself unable to concentrate on what she was doing. Having a little fun had never been this unsatisfying before.

She found her mind constantly going back to thoughts of Sparrow and the way he had almost broke down her barrier of control. That man is dangerous, she thought as she rode the man beneath her. Here she was, screwing a man, and not being able to think about anything but bloody Sparrow! She had to clear her mind and get rid of HIS scent. Jack Sparrow smelled salty like the ocean, bitter sweet like rum and a bit of herbal that she couldn't quite identify. He smelled like freedom. She cursed herself for the detour her mind had taken and tried to focus on her victim again.

Even using men wasn't as much fun as it used to be! Not with HIM crossing her mind with every move she made. Had she really made a mistake by letting him go? _No, Dee, ye haven't. You did the right thing. That man's a pain in the arse, the nails to yer coffin. He's an egocentric, insufferable fool and he ain't even worth spitting on!  
_  
_Although...he was possibly the best kisser she had ever met.  
_  
She heard the man beneath her moan her name. It was things like this that had normally had her grinning wickedly, but now it just disgusted her. 'Try to make a little more effort there, mate. Or do ye want me ta do it all by my onesies?' she snapped with an agitated voice. She heard another moan and then the movements of the man beneath her stopped completely. He looked at her sheepishly with reddened cheeks.

Abruptly she climbed down from the man she had been riding, putting on her blouse and breeches at lightning speed.

'Get out!' she shouted to the man who was looking at her with big eyes. 'Ye heard me ya good fer nothing stupid piece of shit! Get the hell out!'

'B-b-b-but D-d-devon...' the man said with a thick and husky voice.

'Don't 'D-d-devon' me ye illiterate fool! It's Miss Duville to the likes of ye! Now get yer scrawny ass out of here!' she hollered as she threw his clothes in his face.

As the man stood naked before her, she could tell he had enjoyed their little romp more than she had. Devon rolled her eyes at the pathetic sight.

Lazily she grabbed her silver pistol, letting her fingers stroke lovingly across the engraved barrel, tracing the flowing lines of her name with her fingertips.

As she glanced over the barrel towards the man, she saw the man had made no effort to get dressed at all. He was just standing there looking like a complete moron in all his naked glory, staring at her with an expression on his face as if he'd just seen water burn.

She pointed her gun in his direction, and the expression on his face rapidly shifted from shy and sheepish to frightened and afraid.

'What part of GET OUT do ye not comprehend, lad?' she said tapping her bare foot impatiently on the ground and spinning her pistol around on her index finger.

Still he did nothing. He simply stood there like a pillar as his erection started to wear off. _At least that part of his body had understood me threat, _she thought._  
_  
'Don't make me do this the hard way, lad. I have ta pay for the room, I really don't want ta have ta pay extra fer causin' mayhem in it...' she said with her rich voice.

'Okay, we'll take it nice and slow fer ye ... Look lad, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, take yer pick!' Now she was really getting annoying with this bloke. _Not yer fault he's a moron, Dee.  
_  
He finally understood and attempted to put on his breeches, shirt and boots simultaneously while running out of the room.

'That's a good boy!' she called and a small chuckle followed him out of the room. Stupid blighter didn't even notice she hadn't unlocked her gun to begin with...

'Yer mad woman!' he yelled back to her just before she heard the sound of a horny drunk man falling down the stairs.

Her chuckle became a throaty laugh as she her him hit the bottom. _Men! Apparently it's easy to be that stupid when they only think with their dicks.  
_  
She kicked the doorframe with her foot to release the anger that was still welled up inside her, but failing to notice she didn't have her sea boots on. 'DAMN! BLOODY HELL that hurt!'

After a long string of cursing, she hopped on her good foot towards the staircase in search for her dog. She left the door of her room open.

'BULLET, HEEL!' she hollered down the stairs. That was all it took. A few moments later her small dog had found his way to its mistress.

Devon picked him up and carried him towards the bed. The scent of arousal still lingered in the room as Devon and her beloved Bulled lied down on the bed, snuggling close together.

He had taken the strumpet to a room and she had unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his breeches and was giving him oral pleasures. He should be enjoying this... he was enjoying this, now if it weren't for the thoughts running through his mind about the Hellcat he had kissed before...

The thought of her lips and her eyes drove him insane. He tried to focus on the strumpet, but he couldn't get rid of the image of Devon. He shook his head, trinkets jingling, to rid his mind from the wicked wench that claimed his thoughts.

He felt his muscles contracting, and only by entering a state of pure bliss he finally free his mind from all thoughts of the Hellcat.

It was then he heard her rich voice holler in the hallway, and although he couldn't make out the exact words, he knew for sure it was her voice he had heard.

Jack needed to focus on something other than Devon Duville, so he started pleasing the girl he had taken to bed. He used to enjoy watching the women he took to bed cringle in ecstasy, but now it was just a routine that he was doing out of politeness. He just couldn't enjoy himself like he used to... Like he could before he met HER.

After he was done he kissed the girl, tossed a few shillings on the bed and stepped out of the door. As he looked down the stairs he saw the man Devon had latched onto, lying at the bottom of the staircase, with only half of his clothing on. Raising an eyebrow at the sight, he looked from the man towards the only closed door in the corridor and back to the man once again. If he's down here and that door is still closed, then she's gotta be in there.

Jack strode quickly to the closed door, and opened it. He saw Devon and her dog lying closely together on the bed. _Now that's an unexpected sight... The hellcat lying there, sleeping like a little angel, snuggling that ugly dog o' hers close to her chest._

Devon heard footsteps enter her room and she opened one eye slightly, looking through her eyelashes. What she found was Jack Sparrow staring at her with a frown on his face. She knew he didn't expect her to be awake, and decided that scaring the shit out of him would be most amusing... so as he stepped close enough for her to see his knees, she spoke.

'Oy, pirate! Do ye always sneak up on sleeping women?' she practically screamed the words out, causing him to jump backwards cursing.

'Dammit woman, ye scared me!'

'Why? Are we angry because you've just revealed yer secret to me?' her voice was dripping with sarcasm and her eyes sparkled. 'Sneaking up on sleeping women in order ta have yer filthy way with them? I was thinking something like that would be yer routine.'

'Bloody hell, Duville. Shut yer filthy mouth for once. Ye've scared the bejezus out of me!'

'Ah, ye wet yer pants, boy? Such a shame...' she said idly while she stretched herself out.

'Wanted to get out of 'em anyways, Duville,' he said with a deep voice, eyes twinkling in amusement.

'No need fer that, mate. Don't want to get yerself hurt, now would ye?'

'Gonna toss me down the stairs, luv? Just like ye did with the poor bloke that ye had yer way with?'

'I might... But I don't intend on havin' my way with the likes of ye. Not now, not ever, Sparrow. So if you would be so kind as to leave me alone, I would be very grateful,' she said stepping out of the bed slowly. 'Besides, it would never work between us, you fool. For my intelligence and yer stupidity would not get along well. And in addition to that, I don't think ye have in ye to entertain or satisfy a woman like myself. And of course I would have ta kill ye sooner or later.'

'That's an insult, ye wench!' Jack fumed, trembling from the anger inside of him. He stood there like a volcano that was about to erupt.

'Cela est vrai, mon cher! Or should I say that in plain English, for ye to understand?'

'You're crossing borders there missy...' his eyes shot daggers at her.

She stepped closer to him with her hands crossing her chest and a bold look in her eye.

'Is that a threat?'

He unsheathed his cutlass pointing it in the side of her neck. 'I think it is, luv.'

Devon grabbed her pistol and unlocked the safety, while taking one more step in his direction. She felt the point of his cutlass slide slightly into her flesh, but she didn't wince. It hurt her, but she was too stubborn and proud to let him see that. 'Since my bullet travels faster than yer thrust,' raising an eyebrow whilst saying 'thrust' and allowing her eyes wander off below his belt, 'I suggest ye drop that sword, or I'm gonna make ye regret ye ever met me.'

'Ye already achieved that ye evil vixen.'

Just as Devon was about to pull the trigger, he kicked it out of her hands far beyond her reach.

Devon reached for her trusty dagger in a split second and threw it in his direction. He winced as the knife scraped the skin of his upper arm before falling to the ground. She didn't mean to hurt him so bad, just to warn him not to mess with her.

'Bleedin' hell! I didn't mean to slit yer throat before, but now ye leave me no other choice,' he shot forward causing his sword to slide into her flesh even deeper.

Devon blinked, still trying not to show how much he hurt her.

'There's always a choice Jack,' she said calmly, 'even not choosing is a choice...' She took a step back, narrowing her eyes, focusing them on her opponent.

'Ye don't even deserve to be run trough with my blade, stupid wench,' he said emotionless as he replaced his sword once more in its sheath.

'Well, mon cher, I really must be going now... Being that we set sail tomorrow, ye know,' she said matter-of-factly while turning towards Bullet.

She ran her fingertips over her neck where his sword had cut her. She felt a warm wetness that she expected, and as she looked at her hand crimson red was showing on her fingertips. Her eyes went from her fingertips to her dagger on the floor. 'Sorry 'bout that, I tend to loose my temper sometimes.'

'As do I,' he retorted, rubbing the bleeding scar her dagger had made on his arm.

Devon stepped forward, cupping his face in her hands as she pulled him closer. He yanked his head backwards, but then he looked into her eyes and studied her expression. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Either she hated his guts or she hated herself for not hating him as much as she should have.

'I suppose ye'll need something to remember me by Sparrow, because I hope I'll never have to lay eyes on you again.'

'I think the scar will pretty much do the trick, Duville.'

'As mine will be the only reminder I'll ever need of you Sparrow... but I actually had something else in mind.'

Before he could respond, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her warm lips against his. He couldn't help himself; he parted his and invited her in. There was even more passion in this kiss as the in the one they had shared before. Devon felt him pressing his body against hers and she could feel the unmistakable proof of his arousal. She felt her knees grow weak and pearls of sweat started forming on her brow. Than the agonizing pleasure of provocation seized as Jack broke away.

He readjusted his hat and fidgeted with the sash he wore around his waist, to hide what he didn't want her to see. Although he was pretty sure she had already felt that poking in her abdomen. He looked into the deep midnight blue of her eyes. _Damn that woman_. Devon tightened her leather vest while turning away from him and put her boots on. As she bent over to lace the boots and retrieve her dagger, he could see a dark tattoo on her lower back just above the band of her breeches. He tried to discern the design, but just as he was about to move in for a closer look, she rose to her full length again, and the tattoo was hidden underneath the black leather of her tight vest.

'Sparrow?'

'Aye?'

'On second thought, just forget about me,' she said with a slight unsteady voice, 'Cause I sure as hell intend on forgetting about you...' she turned around and looked him straight in the eye. 'This never happened.'

She managed to recover her voice and said the last words in the harshest tone she could muster.

'Don't worry, luv I tend to forget whores rather quickly.'

**A/N **

**I hope you liked this little chappie. I would be ever so grateful to get reviews since I tend to loose reviewers by every chapter... **

**Reviews are good, reviews are fine. I've made my words yours, please make yours mine?**

The DuTchess of Doom


	11. Separate Ways ?

_Disclaimer: You know the drill... nothing that belongs to Disney belongs to me. Anyone that was not in the movie –including the ever charming Devon Duville - does belongs to me!_  
  
**A/N Sorry I didn't post this chapter sooner, but my lovely Beta Linthilde was rather busy the past week and I was busy doing lots of other things as well (including getting somewhat drunk), but now that I'm sober and Linnie found the time to edit, we hereby present you, chapter 11. (And Linnie and I made a secret pact that we try and update more frequently, meaning I have to work my nails to shreds and she has to edit like hell.... But we love that, don't we luv???)  
**  
And big hugs to everyone that left a few words of their own in a review, that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside... (even when there were whips involved)  
  
Fletch: No worries, I shall not stop writing and Linnie won't stop editing, so we shall try and update more, so you don't have to use the whip. Although Linnie thought it would be fun to use that when Jack is around.... (lol)  
  
Kate/Anastasia Walker: Thanx for the compliment luv. And the answer to yer question is yes, PineAppleLint did use my dear sweet Devon in "Make Him Move On" and she did a real good job writing her, might I add.  
  
EmoGoHome: Wow, read it all in one day? You should be proud of yerself! (applauds)  
  
FunkyFlamingo: They are annoying aren't they, but they also are two very stubborn pirates... And sorry 'bout the slight delay in updating, but we are working on a lot more chapters as I write this, so don't fear, there's lots more underway.  
  
Dagzer: Thanx for yer review luv, hope you like this chapter.  
  
PineAppleLint: 'Ello Poppet, how nice of you to review again, your reviews have taken a special place in my heart. And I am also sorry your S/W fic is over. You should write a sequel, maybe about Ellie and Shooter? And yes, I am wicked, but that's all Devon's fault, she tends to drag me right back in the gutter (as does my lovely Beta; bad influence that girl) (LOL)  
  
Sapphire Sparrow: Muchos Gracias, luv! And I like keeping the suspense, but that's only because you people should keep reading.  
  
Amber-Jade James: Glad to hear you're hooked, so am I. (lol) hope you like this little chappie.  
  
Zigzag: I am brilliant? Aw, thanx! And they are really cure in a most un- cute way (they'd probably flog you if they heard that)  
  
If I forgot anyone, I am deeply sorry, but then you must have reviewed after I posted this chapter.  
  
And now...without further ado,

Chapter 11

**Separate ways?**

****

****

The next morning:  
  
Devon stood at the railing of the Hazard, lazily picking her nails with one of her knives. The wound in her neck still stung a bit, but then again she was used to the sensation of pain. She wore a scarf around her neck, while concealed beneath it was a piece of clean cloth drenched in alcohol. She didn't want anyone to know about her little run in with Sparrow the other night, but it had to be treated somehow. She really did need to have it stitched, but that was impossible since then she would get asked questions that she wasn't too keen on answering. _Maybe I should just do it myself then..._ she mused.  
  
She was broken from her reverie by a warm tropical wind blowing through her hair. As the wind caught the sails she couldn't help but look over to the majestic black ship that was the Pearl. She felt a strange feeling in the pits of her stomach as she saw the Pearl raise anchor. She saw AnaMaria on deck and began thinking how she was sailing off towards a new horizon just like she was. She fancied meeting her again soon, but the chance of that happening would be slim to none with oceans being as vast as they are. Even though she longed to meet up with AnaMaria, seeing her would mean seeing Sparrow, and that was something she would not enjoy. The man had gotten her raging with anger the other night when he called her a whore. She almost lost her temper completely and had been on the verge of another homicide. Luckily for Sparrow she walked away before further damaged could be done. She was nothing like a whore at all! Even if she were to be classified a whore, what would that make him? He was certainly no shred better than she was...  
  
_Speak o' the Devil! There he be now..._  
  
Devon saw Jack on the other ship waving at her. 'What a dumbass. As if I didn't make myself perfectly clear the other night... Yeah, wave yer hand in that feminine way, ye stupid blighter. Devon Duville sure as hell ain't wavin' back.' Even though she was rambling under her breath about Sparrow and his idiocies, it was just loud enough for Drake, who was standing just behind her, to hear. Naturally he thought her not-so-inner monologue amusing and found it very hard to contain his laughter. 'Duville, I think the Captain's waving at me, luv.' Devon looked at her Captain with narrowed eyes, 'I knew that!'  
  
She leaned back on the railing again, attempting to polish her nails as she rubbed them on a sleeve of her blouse.  
  
'He's really gotten under yer skin, hasn't he?' Drake inquired playfully.  
  
_Cut trough my skin is the more appropriate thing to say, Capt'n_, she retorted, reverting to her inner monologue since Drake already caught her muttering today.  
  
She gave him a venomous glare, her eyes glistening with fury. 'Don't piss me off, Drake! Even a Capt'n like yerself has borders he shouldn't cross, 'specially with me.' She poked him in the chest with her index finger, then turned on her heel and stalked off calling Bullet to follow her. With her temper already riled up, she figured that the men could do with a little reminding as to who Miss Devon Duville is. With this in mind she barked at all the men on deck, 'In case any one o' ye are looking fer me in order to get me even more pissed, I'll be in the armoury tending to ta guns and cannons. And I strongly suggest ye don't follow. I've always had a hard time containing myself when it comes to inspecting the work I've done!'  
  
Done with that little speech, the men watched her stride off with her nose high in the air. Out of the blue her boots got caught in one of the ropes on deck, sending her to the floor very ungracefully.  
  
'Ow! Bloody Hell!' Devon hollered. 'Can't anyone of ye stupid, mangy, weasely blighters ever store those bleedin' ropes in their proper place? Could have broken something there! Honestly... how annoying... really shouldn't hurt this fucking much...' Dee began cursing and muttering under her breath about the lack of responsibility in newly bred pirates.  
  
'Dee... Luv?' Drake said trying to get her attention and stated calmly, 'That would be YOUR job!'  
  
Shredder almost wet himself once he finally let out his raucous laughter, having been chuckling silently since the beginning of Dee's first tirade.  
  
Dee got up swiftly, reaching for her dagger. 'I could make ye regret that, Shred,' she hissed holding the cold steel of her blade at his neck. 'But I won't ye see, because I'm such a generous person and all...' her voice was dripping with venom as if she were daring him to give her a reason to hurt him. Even as she pulled away, her eyes were still raging with fire. She adjusted her black leather vest and picked little Bullet up. Instantly she felt its tongue licking her across the face. 'There there, love. Mommy loves ye too... But don't expect me ta lick ye! A little too much facial and back hair if ye ask me.' She grinned down at the dog, but as she turned around her feet got tangled again and she started kicking wildly at the ropes. She put Bullet down and started tossing the ropes aside, untangling her feet from them. 'Don't just stand there ye louses! Get to work!' With that she stormed off below decks, cursing and swearing like a mad woman.  
  
'What the HELL's gott'n inta her?' Dacosta said to no one in particular.  
  
Drake smirked. 'My guess is that a certain Captain our little angel has met recently made a bigger impression on her than she wants to admit, lad.'  
  
He thought over Dee's situation and attitude and chuckled lightly as he thought of her meeting with Sparrow. After a few moments he hollered, 'Lift anchor and make ready to sail!'  
  
The Eye climbed the ropes to the crows nest while the rest of the men aboard worked the ropes and the sails. The Hazard set course to the open sea, given the fact that Drake hadn't decided where they would go yet.  
  
While she was belowdecks, Devon cleaned the barrels of the cannons with a little too much rage, still cursing everything and everyone for existing. Gun powder residue was evident everywhere, and the black dirt covered her like a dark veil. She was completely covered in the soot, although it could not be seen on her leather vest since it was already black. She didn't mind getting dirty as long as she could release her anger whilst doing it. _What was it that she was angry about anyway? They were going to leave Tortuga, and as much as that saddened her, there was a whole ocean to explore and ships to pilfer. So what was the reason for her sudden outburst? Her thoughts turned again to Sparrow. Sparrow... Damn that man! He triggered something inside of her. Blast him! Who the hell did he think he was anyway? Pathetic drunk!  
_  
She sighed. It was better letting her anger out against the guns and cannons instead of taking it out on her fellow crewmates.  
  
'But why, Dee, why do ye even care? It's not as if the idiot deserves ye thinking about him!' she said thinking out loud to herself.  
  
_Oh GREAT, she was starting to talk to herself again! Perhaps all the rum and absinthe she had consumed in the past – and present, she thought with a grin – had caused some permanent form of brain damage. And why the hell was she doing thinking about Sparrow anyway?  
_  
Devon sat cross-legged on the dirty wooden floor and had just started assembling a few pistols when she heard footsteps down the corridor.  
  
'Oy, Duville! Supper's ready!' she heard Dacosta shout.  
  
'Not hungry, piss off!' she hollered back. That was uncalled for, she knew, but she just felt the urge to verbally harass someone.  
  
'Suit yerself then!' he barked, followed by a muttered, 'Ye evil wench...'  
  
'I heard that!' she commented throwing the nearest thing she could find in the direction of the door.  
  
She heard his loud footsteps walking away from her. Bullet snorted as it shook itself. Devon looked at her dog, a small half smile forming on her lips. The little black and white dog was now completely black. She grinned while she pulled the dog onto her lap, stroking it gently behind the pointy ears. _Oh Bullet you are the only man I care for. Don't need any other. It's just that you simply can't aide me with some of the needs a woman like meself has sometimes..._ She thought as she pet her beloved dog. No man she knew could ever understand her as well as this little wrinkled fella she was holding right now. This one was loyal to her. This one knew her wicked ways and put up with them. And this one was the only male alive that she intended staying loyal to. 'What would I ever do without you, my little wrinkled ball of muscle?' She cupped Bullet's head with her hands and kissed its nose. She set him down and tended to her tasks again – cleaning, dismantling and re-assembling every single gun with great precision. After she was done she felt tired and let herself fall back on the floor. Her legs had gone numb and so she closed her eyes for a moment.

* * *

Meanwhile on the Pearl:'... and really bad eggs!' Jack sang to himself whilst holding the wheel of his beloved ship firmly in his rugged hands. Gibbs walked up towards Jack taking a sip out of the flask he carried inside of his vest-pocket.  
  
'Where we be headin' then Capt'n?'  
  
Jack looked at the older man. 'Port Royal! I'm gonna pay the Eunuch a visit. See how he's holding up in that hoity-toity community.'  
  
'Are ye daft Jack? Ye're still wanted there! Hell the whole damned Pearl, crew included, is wanted there! We'll never even make it into the port.'  
  
'Are ye doubting my abilities, dear friend?' Jack asked with narrowed eyes.  
  
'By the powers, I'm not Jack. Just wondering why the whelp is that important to ye, that be all.'  
  
'I have too many enemies as it is already, Gibbs, and one can never have too many friends. So I'd best keep the whelp on me good side, right? Port Royal it is!'  
  
Gibbs walked over to the railing and tended to the ropes. Jack kept humming to himself whilst flashes of previous adventures with the whelp made their way into his thoughts. He grinned when he remembered being marooned on that little island with the lovely Elizabeth. _Some attitude that lass had... But she is out of Duville's league. Devon would flog her if she had burned her rum. Possibly kill her with that temper o' hers. _That thought made a small grin form on his lips.  
  
_Now where the hell did that come from?! Jack_ jumped at the sudden turn his thoughts had taken, causing his trinkets to clash. As if ye could chase the thought of her away by making sudden movements... _Honestly Jack, you know where these thoughts came from_. Jack inwardly cursed his thoughts for always travelling back to the Hellcat, and cursed his mind as well for being correct about her lingering residence in his thoughts.  
  
AnaMaria walked up to him, 'What are ye doin' Jack? Get bitten by something?'  
  
'No, just got nicked by it,' he said matter-of-factly.  
  
Ana rolled her eyes in exasperation, 'Do ye ever give answers that actually make sense, Jack?'  
  
'Course I do. And ye keep forgetting the 'Captain', luv.'  
  
'As if ye ever LET anyone forget, EVER! Yer ego is the size of a bloody house! Just like Devon's! Sometimes I wonder how I've managed to put up with ye for this long...'  
  
'With whom, the Hellcat or little ol' me?'  
  
'BOTH OF YOU!' she hissed and stalked off to tend the ropes.  
  
_Devon Duville... even her name sounded evil. Devil would be a more appropriate last name for that wicked wench. Quite the seductive, manipulative, homicidal vixen... How could he have fallen into her trap?_ He bit his lip in quiet frustration.  
  
'Damn that bitch!' he shouted. 'Now, where's me rum?'

* * *

Back on The Hazard:

Devon opened her eyes and tried stretching out her limbs, which made some of her bones crack. A tingling sensation ran though her legs, a stinging that felt like tiny little needle pricks. She blinked her dark blue eyes, trying to adjust them to the darkness surrounding her.  
  
She was hungry. The sound of her own growling stomach had woken her up from another dreamless sleep. She stood up and began to climb the stairs in search of food. She looked up at the firmament, the cascading pinks, purples and oranges already filled the sky. Had she really been sleeping that long?  
  
'Fancy seein' ye back in the land of the livin' Dee.'  
  
Johnson nudged her side, half to make sure she was aware of his presence and half to pull her away from her thoughts and into the land of living which he was speaking of. He fell into step with her, hoping she would be in a better mood than she was this morning.  
  
'Why are ye followin' me? Have I got honey on me toosh?' she grinned.  
  
'Not that I can see deary. Maybe if ye bend over a bit...'  
  
'Still can't wait to jump me bones, eh?' she winked. _Yes, she was her old self again. Maybe all she really needed had been the good long sleep she had just awoken from_.  
  
'Where are we headed for Johnny?' she asked with curiosity, trying to make out their current location.  
  
'Port Royal... apparently the Capt'n has some business there.'  
  
'What kinda business?'  
  
Johnson shrugged his shoulders.  
  
'Never did like that place much. Far too many wigs over there. The Brits just don't have enough talent to create an extraordinary hairstyle by themselves. Lack of imagination, I guess.'  
  
Johnson nodded in response.  
  
'Never seduced a wigged lobster before though... Gotta give that a go then don't I?'  
  
'Do ye ever NOT think of men, Dee?'  
  
'Aye, but only when I have the pleasure of seeing yer handsome face, luv. Drowns the passion right out of me ye see.' Ducking from his fist, she ran gleefully over to the mizzenmast.  
  
'Oy Jameson, in need of some company up there?'  
  
'Be my guest!' he hollered down to her.  
  
'Have to grab a bite to eat first, won't be long!'  
  
She returned a few minutes later with a slice of buttered bread clenched between her teeth and two apples tucked in her pockets.  
  
Climbing the ropes like a monkey she soon lifted herself onto her so called balcony.  
  
'Never get tired of the setting sun, I don't,' she whispered.  
  
'Beautiful sight, ain't it?'  
  
'Ye sure ain't called 'The Eye' fer nothing, Jameson,' she said nudging him with her shoulders.  
  
'By the way ye look one could think ye did quite a lot of dreamin'.'  
  
'Had to catch up with me lack of sleep, but no dreams for as far as I can recall.'  
  
Jameson yawned stretching his body.  
  
'And ye look a tad bit tired, mon ami. Want me ta take yer shift? I'll be more than willing to...' she offered.  
  
Jameson contemplated for a moment and then agreed to take her offer.  
  
'Eat yer apple first, didn't drag the heavy load all the way up here to eat all by me onesies.'  
  
He took the green apple from her hand and took a large bite.  
  
Devon was lazily munching on hers, lost in her thoughts. _Wonder where he is... Where Ana is, I mean... never told me where he... SHE was headed to... The way he kissed... so eager, so ...  
_  
'DEVON!!!'  
  
She almost dropped her apple, 'Huh?'  
  
'Ye aware of the fact ye were licking and suckin' yer apple like it was... I dunno, anything BUT an apple?'  
  
She felt her cheeks blush, but flatly answered, 'Mighty juicy these ones are, mate.'  
  
_Oh Lord, she had been thinking about the idiot again._

_WHY? WHY DOES GOD TORMENT ME THIS WAY?! WHAT COULD I EVER HAVE DONE WRONG??_  
  
As she tilted her head towards the sky again a seagull dropping landed between her breasts. 'Point taken,' she whispered softly towards the clouds.

* * *

On the Pearl:  
  
'Gibbs, need ye ta take the helm.' Jack called to Gibbs, his words slurring together quite spectacularly.  
  
'Turning in then, are ye?'  
  
'Aye, can barely keep me eyes open.'  
  
Gibbs gave him a glare. 'Maybe ye shouldn't drink that much, Jack. Frightful bad luck to have an intoxicated Capt'n, it is.'  
  
Jack reached for the collar of Gibb's jacket, pulling him closer, 'It would be far worse fer a Captain ta loose a perfectly capable crewmember over the subject of rum.'  
  
'Aye sir. At the helm I shall be.' Gibbs knew not to get Jack angry while he was drunk.  
  
Jack stumbled into his quarters, kicking off his boots and stripping himself naked. He let himself fall into the large bed and he emerged into a deep sleep almost instantly.  
  
_........A raven haired naked woman stepped into his bed with him, kissing his lips gently and tracing every scar and tattoo on his chest... Then she turned him on his back, kissing her way to his abdomen but stopped abruptly when she reached the crucial part. He moaned. He tried to pull her onto him, stroking her sides gently, but she pushed his hands away. She forcefully pinned him down on the bed, straddling him, clenching him between her naked thighs. He couldn't see her face, because it was covered with leather wrapped braids. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away. His blood pumped trough his veins, he felt every muscle contract and relax again as she placed herself onto him, letting him slide inside of her..........  
  
_"Duville... I..."  
  
He woke up in shock, sweaty and trembling. Subconsciously he rubbed the newly acquired wound on his arm.  
  
'Curse that woman fer existing!' he barked into his empty quarters. 'Can't even get some decent sleep anymore...'  
  
He decided sleep was not becoming him so he got dressed while he kept mumbling to himself.  
  
He swayed onto the deck, going to take his place behind helm again. After sending Gibbs away, he took the wheel in his raw hands caressing the dark wood.  
  
'Now, bring me that horizon.'

And now send me your reviews, so I can make this story even better. And I love reading what you guys think; your lovely words brighten up my rainy days. (By the Way; I so HATE living in Holland!!!) (LOL) So please... send me some sunshine trough a review!


	12. Of Suns, Moons and Swords

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything that belongs to the mouse, anything that doesn't belong to the mouse, belongs to me...  
_  
**A/N**  
  
Lilianna: Glad you like my story. And Devon does get called a lot of names, doesn't she? But that doesn't really bother her, only when a certain Captain calls her names, than the insane anger is going to have to be let out...one way or the other (LOL)  
  
Zig-Zag: They are really hung-up on eachother and Devon is one very very stubborn pirate! But she isn't going to admit that though. And my you have naughty little thoughts, lass... Me likes that (grin)  
  
PineAppleLint: Thanx again for the review luv, those certainly bring sunshine into my room. And you described them both so well... LOL And I am thinking they have very bad brains as it is already (wink wink), the fact that their mind sometimes tells them what their body's feel is just a bit too much for them to handle rightnow... LOL  
  
Bluegreenskye: Welcome aboard luv. Thank you for those lovely words, they brighten up my day. Hope you like the next chapter...  
  
Kate: Ello luv! (GRIN) Yes, I loved writing the apple part aswell. No apples in this chappie, but a lot of other stuff, wich I hope you'll like aswell.  
  
Pyrogirl: Thanx for your review luv and I shall think about your comment when the passion erupts again, IF it erupts again (cough cough, can't give away too much of the story). I swear on pain of death I shall make the next passion scene more descriptive.  
  
Amber-Jade James: Guess what, luv? This chapter is all about Port Royal! (now go read already and let me know what you think!) And – if I do say so myself – this is getting VERY VERY interesting. And I could know, so you should trust me about that!  
  
Funky Flamingo: WO you reviewed :D :D :D !! (LOL) Sorry, had to do that! As I said earlier, this is getting very very interesting can't wait to hear what you guys think.  
  
**And finally a big thank you and a great big hug to my lovely Beta Linthilde, who has made this chapter even better than it was before! (or so we think) You work wonders luv, and I love the wicked stuff you come up with (wink wink) Oooooooh I feel so GALE rightnow! (gives Linnie a knowing look and smirks) Oh, it is SO good knowing more than all you readers, doesn't it Linnie!!! (evil grin)**

Hope I didn't forget anyone of you wonderful reviewers and now without further ado,  
  
Chapter 12  
  
**Of Suns, Moons and Swords**

The Hazard sat anchored in a cave on the west of the harbour. Only a select few members of the crew, Devon included, went ashore along with Captain Drake. Exactly why they had to go ashore, or even why they had docked at this particular port was a mystery to them all. This was the reason so few of the crewmembers volunteered to go into Port Royal in the first place. Normally the port was dangerous for any pirate, but since Drake had never even given them detailed information about this mission, the crew grew sceptical about the nature of the venture and did not want to be the ones to go ashore.  
  
Port Royal was a peaceful yet stuck-up area, which made it heaven to the decent fancy folk, but dangerous to those who do not follow laws or orders. It is hazardous for those who did not live by rules, but make rules themselves, hazardous for the ones that had the guts to live a life without boundaries. This particular port was treacherous for the ones who refused to settle for a dull life in which every day would be the same. Port Royal was therefore a place pirates mostly avoided, and it surely doesn't help that the navy patrols constantly searched almost every part of town for intruders, for pirates as it were.  
  
Acting as a warning to all those who ventured into Port Royal, the remains of unfortunate souls that had been caught near or inside the town were now seen swinging by nooses near the docks. Now if that sight did not make a clear enough impression, there was also a sign that hung beside them that read, "Pirates ye be warned." To Devon this simply seemed like a sickening display of His Majesties so-called powers in the Caribbean. This display was there to scare other scallywags away, and used the remains as decayed human skeleton scarecrows or wind chimes.  
  
However, Devon did not see danger here. What she saw was a bunch of narrow- minded wigs eager to clip the wings from free spirits like her. She felt sorry for those who, at one time, were hanged by those ropes, that now swayed with the wind as if they were doomed to dance for the rest of their days, never to rest. Their bodies may be damned, but at least their spirits were free. Devon looked at the grotesque, disrespectful image one more time and removed her hat to place over her heart, honouring them, giving them the respect they sincerely deserve but only seldom receive.  
  
Devon hardly ever saw danger in any port, or situation for that matter. Perhaps it just that she was just too stubborn to admit to fear all together. She was always eager for another adventure to add to her list and to tell in good company over a bottle of rum. Now she was eager to find out whether the wigged ones really were as stupid as she thought they were, not to mention that she was determined to find out what business Drake had here in the first place.  
  
Devon was a good judge of character and she had a talent for being able to read between the lines, and listen to unspoken words. Devon knew that Drake had something up his sleeve. This was a reason she volunteered to go ashore, if only to satisfy her curiosity. She stood first in and it was only after she had signed on some others followed, as if unwilling to let the woman be the only one brave enough to follow her Captain ashore.  
  
To prepare for the trip, Devon had taken the braids out of her hair the night before and washed her hair to get her natural curls back, rather than the frizzy bunch of hair she would have had if had left her hair as it were. However, she did leave two of her leather wrapped braids in place, but only because the braids had become a part of her. Port Royal was a place where she would stand out, regardless of her appearance, but her beloved braids would only draw more unwanted attention to her.  
  
She sat in the front of the longboat, next to her Captain, while Bullet sat quietly on her lap. As she gently stroked her dog, her loose curls waved around her head in the wind. She wore a white blouse underneath her leather vest and black cotton breeches. She had attempted to hide her most visible scars and tattoos with either a scarf or fingerless gloves.  
  
Drake looked at his female pirate, and was amazed to see that she no longer looked dangerous, but enchanting. Her curls gave her a softness that many had never imagined she could possess.  
  
'Is there a problem, Drake?' Devon asked when she saw her Captain studying her appearance.  
  
'No. No problem with me, Duville. It's just that we don't get ta see ye this way very often, that's all.'  
  
'Well, don't get used to it, because I don't intend to get dressed down on a daily basis. I just don't feel like meself without me braids and all the leather.'  
  
The longboat neared the shore and Devon jumped out of the boat without any warning, straight into the water. Drake cursed her swift movement because the boat nearly tipped over. Bullet quickly followed Devon in the water, splashing water in Drake's face.  
  
'Honestly Duville, sometimes ye act just like a child.'  
  
Devon pouted at him and batted her eyelashes, 'Couldn't help meself, Sir.' She grinned cheekily as she pulled the boat forward into some bushes with the help of Dacosta.  
  
'Maybe I should start punishing you for yer rash actions, like ye do to that dog of yers.'  
  
'Yeah kinky, spank me. Ye know how much I'd like that,' she said with a smirk on her face, winking at her Captain.  
  
'You are truly the nails in a man's coffin, Duville...' he hissed at her.  
  
'If that be the case I'd better get out of the water, before I start to oxidize, aye? Wouldn't want to get all rusty.'  
  
He rolled his eyes and shook his head at the antics of the woman he had grown so fond of over the years.  
  
'Now Drake, why did we come here in daylight? Don't you think that it's just a wee-bit risky?' she inquired.  
  
'Don't you think it a tad risky coming ashore wearing men's clothes Duville? You should have worn the dress I got you.'  
  
'Not when YOU should have waited until nightfall so no one would've noticed a woman in breeches,' she snapped  
  
'You still should have worn the dress...'  
  
'That would be suicide, an you know it. How would I fight or run in a something like that? No way in hell I am ever gonna wear one of those evil things, and especially not in BROAD DAYLIGHT with lobsters on every corner! Those things were invented to slow women down, to prevent them from taking their own damned course!'  
  
'You forget your place, Duville.'  
  
'It seems to be you that seems to have forgotten that my place is right here wearing my breeches,' she snapped looking away from her Captain and staring out to sea.  
  
Devon, knowing that she won the argument, ran a hand through her black curls and put her hat back on her head, pulling it slightly forward to cover her eyes.  
  
'Duville, I need you to go to this address... a man called Edwards lives there. Word is that he recently got hold of a map that could be of importance to us. You wrap him around yer little finger and take the map. Simple.'  
  
'What are we talking about here, Drake? Yer gonna have ta give me a little more information than that! Who's this Edwards anyway?'  
  
'He works for the Royal Navy. Apparently he is in charge of the maps and I need you to get it for me and find out whatever you can about it while you're there.'  
  
'What map are ye talking about? If I even get to find that house and find the room its in, how would I know if I've found the right map?'  
  
'I don't know for sure, but there's an emblem that has to be on it,' he said whilst showing her a large ring he took out of his pocket.  
  
'Ah, it be that horrendous ring once again... Oh My! Great heavens and fallen angels, does this mean ye are finally proposin' dear Capt'n?' Devon asked looking innocently in her Captain's grey eyes, her eyes twinkling and voice dripping with sarcasm.  
  
'DAMMIT DUVILLE! Will you just let me finish fer once?! Honestly I don't know how I put up with ye... should have tossed you overboard when I had the chance.'  
  
'That would be because ye love me and ye'd be lost without me, luv. That and you know that I would always find my way back to you, so long as I have me heart as me compass, dearest Captain of mine...' she said, her voice filled with mirth.  
  
He shot an angry glare at her, while his fingers trembled from the anger he was trying desperately to control. Devon bit her lip, _I think I've just taken one step too far_...  
  
She acted quickly to diffuse the situation. 'My guess is yer not proposing then, which is a good thing, because I would've declined anyways. Now, lemme see that monster of a ring again... Hmmmm... A sun... moon... and a skull under a gate?' she said while she carefully studied the heavy golden ring she had taken from her Captain's hand.  
  
'Very detailed handiwork and craftsmanship I must say. It must have taken someone hours to get a design like that on something like this here hideous ring... Why in the name of the devil did ye take that monstrosity with ye in the first place, Drake? I've known you to have much better taste than this.'  
  
'I took it,' he said with slight irritation creeping into his voice, 'because it's part of the lost Inca treasure of Viracoccia. It represents the gates of Isla del Sol and Isla del Luna.'  
  
'The floating islands?' Devon asked raising one eyebrow in curiosity. 'Ye mean they actually exist?'  
  
'I am pretty sure they do. Supposedly the legendary treasure of Viracoccia lies buried underneath one of those gates. Either the moon or the sun...' he spoke slowly making sure she knew the importance of her task.  
  
'So there'll be two maps then?'  
  
'No, just the one. But there must be two charts on it, one for each island.'  
  
'When did you find out about it?' Devon asked impatiently, the word treasure had made her heart skip a beat and she was silently pleading her Captain to tell her more.  
  
'The Spanish vessel we raided last, remember?'  
  
She nodded, tucking back a loose curl and a braid behind her ear 'Aye, I know that's where ye found that hideous ring, but I didn't know how ye got the information about the treasure though. I can't remember any of the Spanish sailors mentioning it or talking about it... did they?' she said waving her hands in order to let Drake continue.  
  
'No time for any more explanation, Duville, you're going to get us all the information we need anyway.'  
  
'What be the benefit for me then, eh? I mean, I am taking the risks here, putting my lovely butt on the line so ta speak.'  
  
'If we find the treasure, you'll get your pick first, before we split it. Do we have an accord?'  
  
Devon shook Drake's hand firmly, but there was one thing that was still wasn't clear to her.  
  
'Why me, Drake?'  
  
'You were the one that wanted to seduce a lobster, luv. An' here I am giving ye the opportunity to do so,' he said with a grin to match Devon's.  
  
'And...?' Devon asked suggestively tapping her foot on the ground impatiently awaiting an answer.  
  
'And, you are the only one capable enough...'  
  
'All I wanted ta hear, Capt'n.' She said snatching the piece of paper out of her Captain's hands eagerly.  
  
'Ye need us to go with her, Sir?' Dacosta asked looking at Hoggins and Stevens.  
  
Devon beat her Captain to the answer, surveying the four men that stood in front of her as she did so. 'No, nothing I can't handle by me onesies, after all I am Devon Duville, the most feared skilled, sexy, witty...'  
  
'WE KNOW!' All the men shouted back at her before she could finish her tirade about her own greatness.  
  
'Alright then, so ye should know I am going alone.'  
  
Before she could leave, Drake finished giving Devon her orders. 'Now after ye get the map, ye get back here and row back to the Hazard, savvy? Or would you rather we wait for ye back here?'  
  
'Aye Sir. I'll bring ye yer map and I'll return here safe and sound,' she answered nodding to her Captain. 'But why must ye always ask questions ye know the answer to, Drake? You damn well know I am in no need for protection, never have been and never will be. Now if you'll please excuse me, I've got a lobster to catch! Come Bullet!' she winked at the men before turning on her heel and walking casually into the busy streets of Port Royal. She weaved into the crowd of people while she studied the small piece of paper Drake had given her. She continued to walk for several minutes, in an attempt to stay away from the preying eyes of the guards, to mingle in the crowd so that she could blend in and go unnoticed. She studied the faces of people she passed while she searched for the address written on the paper in her Captain's messy handwriting.  
  
Drake rubbed his neck wondering if it had been a wise decision to send Duville out by herself. Not that he doubted her skills for a moment, but this was Port Royal. His memory immediately drifted back to Nassau Port a few years back. That was not a good memory at all... He wondered if Devon had even thought about that incident – if you could call it that – before she went ashore. Probably not, he figured, Dee always just seemed to forget nasty situations. However, she had proven her skills back then, so why should he worry now...? Either way, he was beginning to worry, even if she didn't. Damn! He should have gone with her. Just as he was about to call her or at least send Dacosta and Hoggins after her, she was already out of his sight.  
  
Devon noticed a few men stare at her from the corner of her eye. This was not the lusty stare she was usually on the receiving end of, but a stare that made her increase speed a little. They were staring at her as if they had no clue what to make of her. She absentmindedly tugged at her sleeve to make sure the dragon tattoo wasn't showing, even though she wore gloves over her arms and under the shirt sleeves. Can never be too sure with the wigged ones, she thought. As she continued on her way she saw an opportunity she simply couldn't pass. Devon spied a wealthy looking man who was casually tossing a leather purse in his hand and deliberately bumped into him. She curtsied, excusing herself from her 'rude behaviour', while showing a bit more chest than was needed – in a most feminine way – to distract the man's attention and then casually walked towards the corner of the street. After reaching the corner, she turned into a narrow street._ Serves 'im right, waving his money pouch in front of my face._ She weighed the pouch in her hand feeling how heavy it was. Devon's lips twisted in a smirk. _Old habits die hard... especially when you're good at them.  
_  
When she entered a small alley on her left, she came upon a Blacksmith's Shop. Given Devon's inquisitive nature and her obsession with weaponry, she simply couldn't resist. She just had to go inside and see what was behind that wooden door. She placed her semi-gloved hand on the door and pushed it open, the squeaky door moved away from the frame and a yellowish-brown light from inside fell upon her face. She narrowed her eyes a little and scanned the room. Her gaze soon fell upon a few of the most beautiful swords she had ever seen. _Whoever made these is a gifted and talented man who apparently loves what he does for a living_, she thought as she carefully removed one of the swords from a rack above her and balanced it in her hand. _Absolutely perfect! These were crafted with great care and devotion..._ While she inspected the fine blade, she heard Bullet growl at something. Once she tore her eyes away from the beautiful blades, she found him growling at a donkey that stood in the back near the fire. 'Honestly pup, that little donkey did nothing to offend ye, now hush,' she whispered to her dog, pulling it back by its collar. She glanced towards the mule and went over to stroke its head gently as if to excuse Bullet's behaviour.  
  
'Will? Is that you? You're back early. Such a pleasant surprise...' a female voice came from behind her.  
  
'No ma'm, I'm not Will...' Devon said with her rich weathered voice, while turning on her heel so she was facing the owner of this voice. 'But I would like to speak with the master blacksmith, is he in?'  
  
'You're a pirate!' the woman said enthusiastically, a small smile adorning her porcelain face. _Enthusiastic when she meets a pirate? No fear, no screaming, no 'spare me'? Damn these curls, they take away my fierce appearance!  
_  
As if on cue Bullet began to growl at the woman, and she looked down at Devon's feet to locate the source of the noise. 'Oh, and look at the darling dog you have! Oh, isn't that just the cutest thing!'  
  
'Aye, I appear to be and last time I checked meself I was, in fact, a pirate. So I applaud you on that accurate assessment, lass. But don't ye go spreading the news just yet, now would ye? Although I must say that I like your taste lass, no screaming in terror at seein a pirate, not to mention the you are the only person besides meself that ever called Bullet cute before.' Devon smirked and studied the woman.  
  
She was beautiful had fair skin, it looked almost porcelain with such angelic features, while she wore her hair in a neat bun with little ringlets falling down on her forehead and glowing cheeks while a few loose curls rained down the back of her neck. She was everything Devon wasn't. One look in her eyes and Devon saw fascination in their hazel depths, not hatred. This one could be trusted, she simply had a feeling... _Never doubt the gut feeling, Dee, even when in Port Royal.  
_  
'But... you're a woman...' the voice of the younger woman pulled Devon out of her reverie. The woman sounded slightly bemused, as though she thought it strange to see a WOMAN pirate in her home, but was not surprised at the presence of a pirate. Devon contemplated this idea for a moment, before storing it in her memory for later inspection as the younger woman got down on her knees to pet the little French bulldog.  
  
'Aye, correct again, luv.'  
  
'There aren't a lot of female pirates I know of...'  
  
'That makes two of us, lass. Only know one other personally, except for meself...' Devon stated. 'Now, luv, where be the master smith, I am very interested in talking with 'im.'  
  
'My husband is off delivering the Commodore's order to the fort, but he should be back soon.'  
  
With that said Devon sat herself down on a barrel and started cleaning her fingernails with a dagger. The woman stood across from her, fascinated with her presence and seemed to be completely in love with her dog.  
  
'Tell me something, lass. How is it you are this comfortable around pirates? What makes ye think yer safe with me?' Devon queried.  
  
The woman seemed lost in thoughts for a moment, so Devon interjected a subtle, 'Lass... ye there?', before the woman snapped out of her trance and looked to Devon once more.  
  
'I must say that I've been fascinated with pirates since I was a little girl... And since you haven't aimed your pistol at me, or threatened me or did anything of the sort, my guess is you are trustworthy. And if you were an unkind or evil person than this little one would never stay with you,' she said cuddling Devon's dog.  
  
Devon couldn't help but laugh. 'Either you are very naïve or you are very brave lass. No pirate is trustworthy, not even a woman like meself... Especially not a woman like meself. And that little one as you call 'im, isn't always sweet either. Not a minute before you came in he was trying ta offend yer donkey. But through everything he's never left my side, so I suppose you could call us a team.'  
  
The woman looked somewhat startled now after hearing Devon's throaty laugh and the slightly threatening undertone in her spoken words, so she ceased petting Bullet for a moment.  
  
'No need to be scared though, luv. I don't intend ta hurt ye. I just wanted to see if yer husband's got anything nice fer me. A girl like me can ne'er have enough metal on her, and finely crafted metal is even better and extremely rare to come by.'  
  
The woman seemed to loosen up again and resumed stroking Bullet. 'Somehow I don't believe you are talking about jewels, now are you, Miss...?'  
  
'Devon Duville, at yer service lass... and the little one is Bullet. And no, I wasn't implying jewels, luv. I don't care much for jewellery... Jewels are nice and all, but they won't get you anywhere when your life is on the line...' Devon stood up taking her hat off and bowed at the younger woman.  
  
'What be yer name then, lass?'  
  
'Elisabeth Turner,' she bowed raising her skirts a little along the way, 'Might I point out that Bullet is an unusual name for a pet?'  
  
Devon chuckled and held her hand out, which Elisabeth took and shook firmly. The wheels in Devon's head started turning as she heard her last name... _not a common name in this aristocratic community... and she had heard it before, somewhere_...  
  
'Enchanté Miss Turner,' Devon said warmly. 'You find Bullet to be an unusual name? Well, let me put it this way, he happens to be a Bulldog and given how I love Bullets and weaponry, and how much I love the damn dog... put those two together and you get Bullet the French bulldog. Savvy?'  
  
Elisabeth couldn't quite follow the reasoning of the odd pirate, and there was something that seemed oddly familiar about her, but she simply shrugged her shoulders, 'Savvy.'  
  
When they heard a rumbling noise, both women tilted their heads towards the door. Devon moved behind a rack to her left, attempting to get a better glimpse of whoever came through the door while staying out of sight herself.  
  
'Cupcake, I'm home,' the man shouted lovingly before pushing the wooden door open.  
  
Devon smirked as she stepped out of her hiding place. This was certainly Mr. Turner, that or the lovely lady had a man on the side... nah, probably not. Devon's lips twisted in her trademark grin and she thought that having a bit of fun with Mr. Turner would be most entertaining...well at least to her it would...  
  
'Oh, heavens dear, I've missed you so terribly! I was beginning to wonder whether you had forgotten all about me and would never return...' Devon giggled in an almost perfect English accent.  
  
The other woman laughed along with Devon, while the man who had entered looked sheepishly at his wife.  
  
Before Devon could even calm her laughter, it seemed the man had not found her welcome amusing, so when she opened her eyes it was to see a cutlass not even an inch from her nose.  
  
'Now that's not very friendly...' she said in a mocking tone, while pushing the blade gently away from her face.  
  
The man studied her face and his gaze flicked between her and Elisabeth. 'Who are you?' he asked of Devon while looking to his wife for an answer as well.  
  
Devon rolled her eyes in amusement, 'I am assuming she is your wife, lad.'  
  
She chuckled lightly as she turned her head towards Elisabeth, 'Men seem to forget rather quickly, don't they?'  
  
The man got agitated and pointed his cutlass at her nose once more. 'I meant who are YOU!'  
  
'Ah, silly me. The name's Duville, Devon Duville and am I correct in assuming that these beauties are crafted by your capable hands?' she asked letting her hands glide smoothly along the swords that were hanging behind her.  
  
'Aye, every single one of them,' he replied, his blade never wavering inches from her nose.  
  
'Will, lower the sword, she's not going to harm us.'  
  
'How can you tell?' he said glaring at Devon with narrow eyes.  
  
'If she wanted to do so, do you really think she'd be very calmly standing there with your sword under her nose and not locked in a duel with you at the present moment?'  
  
Devon jumped into their conversation, knowing that if she didn't, this banter would continue for a while longer. 'Girl's gotta point there, mate! I mean all it takes is just a little effort from my side...' before she even finished her sentence she had kicked his sword out of his hands.  
  
'Bloody hell,' the man muttered  
  
'No sense in being bloody, mate. But Hell, I'm good, aren't I?' she quipped with a smirk. 'And as I've just put clean clothes on, I would hate to make a mess and get them all dirty again...'  
  
'Well I'll assume you mean no harm. What is it you want from us then?' he asked lowering his eyes underneath the rim of her hat, trying to look into hers.  
  
Devon removed her hat and carefully placed it on the barrel she had just vacated.  
  
'I am interested in a new sword lad, and as far as I've seen, I've come to ta right place and to the right man for that matter,' she said as she held out her right hand, waiting for the man to shake it.  
  
'Will Turner,' he said shaking her hand firmly. 'What kind of sword are you looking for then?'  
  
'Yer name sounds awfully familiar, lad. I swear I've heard it somewhere before...' She mumbled as her mind was racing again. Devon rubbed her temples in order to spark some sort of recognition in her brain. 'Will Turner... Turner... William Turner, Will... Bill ......... Turner... BOOTSTRAP BILL!'  
  
'Aye, I am his son.'  
  
'Well smack my bum and call me princess! I'd be damned... I knew I heard that name before!' Devon shouted with glee at finally remembering why that name sounded so familiar. She stopped rejoicing and her voice grew solemn when she added, 'I'm sorry fer yer loss, lad.'  
  
'You knew my father?' his eyes were piercing into hers.  
  
'Not personally but I've heard of 'im. Heard 'bout what Barbossa did ta him. Every pirate knows about his dreadful ending.'  
  
Will seemed lost in thoughts now.  
  
'Lad?' she nudged his shoulder, 'You alright lad?' When she saw that Will was still lost in his thoughts she tried another approach. 'I wanted ta buy a blade of yers, remember...?'  
  
Elisabeth pulled Devon aside, 'Why don't I make us something to eat and afterwards Will can show you his collection? What say you to that?'  
  
'I'd say I would love a bite ta eat with ye, but I have some business I need to attend to first,' Devon replied politely. 'But I could take care o' that now and return afterwards. I need to go to this address,' Devon took the piece of paper out of her vest and showed it to Elisabeth. 'Perhaps ye could be so kind as ta give me directions? Then ye and yer husband can eat and I'll be back after I'm done.'  
  
'Of course,' Elisabeth answered, studying the wrinkled piece of paper. 'As it turns out, this address is only a few streets away...'  
  
After Devon had gotten the information she needed, she leashed Bullet, bowed to the couple, tipped her hat and left them behind. Lucky lady, got one hell of a looker there, she smirked to herself. However, as she thought of their marriage she began to think about how that meant they were stuck together for all time... Devon shrugged. _She's doomed... as is he. The passion will eventually wear off and then what'll they do? No, not my cup of tea... No matter how good looking they are, men will always tie their women down. Or what's worse, they could try to change their women.... I've walked that particular road before, and it wasn't a very pleasant experience... hadn't enjoyed that walk one bit.... _Devon shook her head to banish those memories from her thoughts, and continued to walk in the direction Elisabeth had shown her.**So that's was interesting wasn't it. So now, get your buts over to that blue button and review already!!**


	13. How To Seduce A Lobster – Lesson One

_Disclaimer: Still don't own anything that belongs to the mouse, sadly..... A well, let's not dwell on that....._

**A Note from Linnie: Hello all you lovely reviewers!! You have no idea how happy you make DuTchess and I when you enjoy the work and effort we put behind the creation of this story. Anyway, now that that's taken care of, I wanted to let you all know that I threw a little something special in this chapter. If anyone can spot the reference to the movie "Zorro, The Gay Blade" correctly, not only will they earn my compliments (wink) but will also receive a lovely present as a reward.**  
  
**A Note from the DuTchess:  
  
Special thanx to all of you wonderfull reviewers:**  
  
Zig-Zag: To answer your question, yes, Jack is in this chapter, but it's not like you guessed.... Just keep reading and let me know what you think. Love getting your reviews, dear!  
  
PineAppleLint: Wow luv, that must have been the BEST review ever! This seriously brought tears to my eyes and me and Linnie figured we should thank you for giving such a kind review! And you've created a whole new word "Devonism" brava!! I'll keep that in mind whenever I think of lines for Devon to say.... And thank you for "higly recommending my story to others" Greatly appreciated. Your reviews are wonderfull, love reading them and mean so much coming from the author I admire so...  
  
Jtgirl: Yup, she met Will in a weird way, but Devon is a weir girl afterall. Hope you like this chapter, luv. And thanx for reviewing, drop by and review again!  
  
Mags4711: Thanx for your kind review. If she'll meet Jack again? Me lips are sealed, dear!  
  
FunkyFlamingo: computerproblems? Aw, sorry to hear that dear, but if it makes you feel any better I've had my share of problems meself. I could have tossed my computer and laptop out of the friggin' window numerous of times, but luckily I didn't because how would I update then, eh?? Thanx for the review luv, wonderful.  
  
Anastasia Walker: Thanx for your review and as for you're comparing my story to McDonalds? I guess I'll take that as a compliment?? LOL  
  
KateSparrow: Thanx for your reviews and I can't wait to hear what you think of the other chapters and this one! Keep reviewing. Reviews rock my world.  
  
gReeNeYedeLfgurRL13: Thanx for putting me on your favorites list. Mayor compliment! Gracias!  
  
Isabelle: You gave me such kind reviews, thanx for the compliments, hope you enjoy this chapter.  
  
If I left anyone out it would be because you reviewed chapter 12 after I put up this one!  
  
**Important note:  
  
Most of all I would like Linnie for her time and effort to work her magic on my chapters and to inspire me and to push me even further. Thank you ever so much! Words cannot express what you mean to me! And I love spending time with you in the gutter, dear!!  
**

Chapter 13  
  
**How To Seduce A Lobster – Lesson One**  
  
Devon was very grateful for Elisabeth's directions when she was able to easily find her way to the house that she would've spent hours trying to find by herself. She adjusted her clothes so that she would appear more 'presentable' and ran a hand through her hair to calm the unruly curls before knocking on the heavy door.  
  
There was no answer.  
  
_That's strange_ ... Devon thought. She scanned her surroundings, but there was not a soul was in sight. Although she was baffled at the turn of events she knocked again, but this time harder and more persistent.  
  
Still no answer.  
  
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. _What the hell...?_ She glanced over her shoulder a second time, if for nothing else then only to remind herself that there was no one around and that these traitorous hairs on the back of her neck standing up were just due to the fact that she was cold. After she made perfectly sure no one was there, she shrugged it off and then skilfully picked the lock on the door and crept inside.  
  
Once in the door, she carefully studied her surroundings. There was no sound to be heard throughout the house other than that of her own breath and the little snorting sounds her dog made. She made her way down the hall leading off the foyer, where she came upon the first of the rooms in the house. Devon carefully pushed the door closest to her on the right open. It appeared to be some sort of overly decorated tearoom or something. _Like that'll help... Next!_  
  
She opened another door only to find a huge library. Her curiousity got the best of her, and she walked in to see if there were any maps strewn about. No maps, but the man that lived here had quite an impressive selection of literature. She chuckled and shook her head at the thought of a lobster being well-read and then proceeded to the next room before she could dwell on it too much.  
  
She continued down the hallway, and after she opened a few more doors, she came upon a locked door. _Now I wonder what could be in here... _Devon grinned and carefully picked the lock, just as she did to the front door, and in a matter of moments it was open. _Always stick with the things ye do well Dee... _She smirked as she opened the door cautiously. The contents of the room made it look like a study, given the presence of the globe and papers on the desktop, and the small bookshelf that housed models and maps. _Perfect..._  
  
This room was the one she had been searching for.  
  
She went inside and searched a few of the desk drawers, opened a few cabinets and rummaged through the massive piles of papers looking for Drake's map. _Success!_ She found a few maps hidden underneath the piles of papers. After extricating the maps from their paper prison, she picked her first victim. She pulled the ribbons off and rolled the map open, so it was spread out on the desk. But the mark was not there. She didn't even bother to roll it up again before she tossed it aside and grabbed another map. After she opened a few more of the maps, she spied an older looking map with blackened edges and only a simple ribbon which held it closed. _Bingo! _She spied the emblem immediately and grinned at her luck, she hadn't been here more than ten minutes and already found what she came for. Quickly she scanned the map for the dual charts Drake mentioned, just to make sure she wasn't going to take back the wrong map to her Capt'n. Her work being done, she rolled the map up and tucked it underneath her blouse and into her belt. She swiftly put the rest of the maps back in their respective places and went to make her exit. _That was easy. Almost too easy, come ta think of it... It's a pity I didn't get to meet the wigged one. Ah well, probably would've been lousy entertainment anyway... That and there's always next time._  
  
Devon headed back in the direction of the smithy when she heard several heavy footsteps behind her. She increased speed a little, as did the footsteps only seconds later. _Damn, I'm being followed. I just knew this was too bloody easy. _  
  
'Halt!' a harsh voice shouted from behind her.  
  
Devon took off running, no longer worried about getting back to the Turner's, but more focused on not getting caught by those bleedin' lobsters! She reached for her pistol and unlocked the safety. As she streaked down the empty alley, she tried to concentrate on the footsteps that followed her. _Two men... no more... there were three. Only three? I can take three men... after all I am Devon Duvil–_  
  
At that moment two other men had appeared from around the corner in front of her, which conveniently blocked her escape route, and had their rifles aimed at her. _Damn! This is just peachy! Keeps gettin' better by the bleedin' minute..._  
  
She took her pistol in her left hand while she unsheathed her cutlass with her right. Two of her favourite weapons that she could wield with pinpoint accuracy. She was more then ready...  
  
'Drop it!'  
  
'Drop what?' Devon asked innocently looking at her blade and barker.  
  
'Drop your weapons! Drop them this instant!'  
  
'Well aren't ye quite the gentleman? And why on earth would I want to be doing that?'  
  
'If you are wise, missy, you'll do as you're told,' he snarled.  
  
'Ye see? That be a problem... I get mighty pissed when _anyone_ has the gall to call me "missy," let alone a lobster like ye. And another thing is that I sure as Hell never do as I'm told because I do what I want. So I think that the wisest thing for ye ta do, gents, is let me continue my way.'  
  
No sooner had Devon ended her little speech when she felt a pointed object pushing into her back, quite likely the bayonet of a rifle. Inwardly she was laughing at their audacity. _Like one bayonet in me back will really stop me from doing this..._ She stepped forward calmly and raised her gun and cutlass, effectively holding one of the redcoats at gunpoint, while her blade was aimed at another redcoat's heart. 'Now, I think it'd be in yer best interest to stop poking me with that, son. Ye might have outnumbered me, but ye can't outsmart or outfight me.' she snapped over her shoulder.

Given the continued presence of the bayonet in her back, she assumed that the man was being stubborn and was not planning on giving in to her threats anytime soon. _Why must they force me to be violent to get me point across?_ She simply sighed then pulled the trigger, sending the man in front of her to the ground. The bullet left a round and bleeding wound right between his eyes, and all the redcoats looked down to see the crimson liquid pooling out on the cobblestones underneath his head. While they watched their fallen companion, she used the distraction to her advantage and kicked her leg back as forcefully as she could. Afterwards the pressure from the rifle mysteriously vanished.  
  
Once the threat of the bayonet was removed, she countered forward and drove her sword into the chest of the other redcoat, and then she proceeded to turn her blade, its movement in his chest producing a sickening gulping sound. After disposing of two of her attackers swiftly and efficiently, she removed her blade from its human sheath and turned around to face the remaining redcoats that stood behind her. She tucked the smoking pistol into her belt and extracted a fresh one, deftly unlocking the safety. 'Who wants to be next? I must say I'm on a roll here!' her eyes gleamed as she studied the wigged ones that stood in front of her. She watched as they eyed her, the hatred and disbelief clearly showing in their eyes. Without another moment of hesitation she fled from the scene, ducking from several bullets that missed her by only millimetres.  
  
Devon had never run that fast in her entire life. In fact she still held both her cutlass and her pistol in her hands, since there was no time to put them away. _Curse these men for always forcing her into the most gruesome way to end an argument!_  
  
In her rush to get as far away as possible, she heard the alarm bell sound from the fort. _Damn those bloody wigs!_  
  
She continued running, just trying to reach the Turner's Smithy again, figuring she could hide there. But somehow, she had made a wrong turn along the way and consequently ended up in the wrong alley, which just so happened to be a dead end. _And to think I was having good luck with things today – that is, until now._  
  
It was at that particular moment that a strange feeling swept over her, an odd sense of loss. She had lost something... or rather... someone. 'Bullet?! Bullet where are ye luv? This is SO not the time ta play hide 'n go seek!' But Bullet didn't seem to be anywhere in sight. She forgot all about the redcoats that were tailing her now that all of her thoughts were bent upon her dog. She kept scanning the unfamiliar territory in order to retrieve her precious Bulldog, but Bullet was still nowhere to be found. She called him again, not bothering to keep her voice down, 'Bullet! Where the hell are ye pup?'  
  
'Now there's a real nutcase,' a male voice said. 'She's calling for her ammunition!' The sound of laughter rang through the alley.  
  
'What did you think, lass,' his voice now addressing Devon, speaking in a very baiting tone, 'That if you kept pleading and calling for them, that your bullets would just appear out of the blue?' Again, the harsh laughter echoed around her.  
  
Devon found herself cornered by eight redcoats, all aiming their rifles at her, the shimmering bayonets pointed in her direction.  
  
She looked up towards her attackers, eager to make a clean getaway. Unfortunately she had run out of luck by this point, and it seemed that the only way out of this predicament would be to climb through the open window she saw above her. The problem with that idea being that the window was too high for her to reach, and before she could even start the climb to get there, they would have killed her on the spot.  
  
Seeing that there was no way out, she had to do some quick thinking. Either she could attempt to bullshit her way out, or would be forced to take the more gruesome option and slaughter them all. Not one to opt for cruelty without reason, she decided to at least try to the bullshit method first. _It's worked before..._  
  
'Gentlemen, if I can be honest here, I fail to see the problem you obviously have with my person. Would someone please be so kind as to inform me, so I can continue the search for my dog?'  
  
Devon's eyes glanced around her every so often, desperately trying to find the dog she cared about so much. She cared too much for that damned dog – and look where it got her! Even now, her thinking about Bullet had given the redcoats the opportunity to kick her pistol right out of her hand as another one quickly disarmed her. She had been caught off guard... and that was something that did not happen to her very often, if ever. _Curse that mutt! Curse that mangy, scurvy hairball to make me care this much... Now she had nothing. Nothing except her throwing stars, but by getting them out of her vest to defend herself, she would potentially reveal the map she had stolen._  
  
Devon tried to reach for the small dagger that was hidden in her boot, but one of the men grabbed hold of her arm before she had barely bent over to reach for the handle. 'I had an itch, fer crying out loud! Can't a woman scratch herself without ye getting yer knickers in a twist?' He man that held her arm wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking with his big eyes to his hand that was currently grasping hers. Probably thought he would get infected by some 'improper disease'... But even through this the man's grip on her arm never wavered.  
  
Another man stepped forward, and took her chin in hand, as if to inspect her face. Devon spat at him and kicked him hard with her sea boots, struggling to get out of the iron grip which both men had on her.  
  
He winced for a split second, but regained pristine posture and scathing look quickly. He took her wrist, and none-to-gently shoved the sleeve of her blouse up and her gloves down. 'Just as I suspected, the Dragon Lady...' _Damn it all to bloody hell!_ 'Miss Duville did you honestly think no one would notice the pirate brand on yer arm, or that tattooing a dragon over it would take away suspicion?' he snickered. 'If nothing else the Dragon on your forearm only makes you even more recognizable. I am appalled that you even need an explanation, or does your memory fail on you?' he smirked smugly to himself as he wiped her saliva off his face.  
  
'Maybe it did, handsome. All it takes is one look from you and a girl's knees grow weak,' she answered sarcastically while cringing inside. _The things I reduce myself to..._ 'What be your name, sweetie? As you made it quite clear that you know mine, it seems only fair you tell me yours. Of course I'll need it so that I can moan it when I dream of you,' Devon had to repress a shudder. This man was NOT even the slightest bit attractive to her, just a hoity-toity, stuck-up wig.  
  
He took a step back with reddened cheeks, 'Clap her in irons,' he said  
  
with an unsteady voice. She saw his eyebrows wiggle and his fingers  
  
tremble, so she decided to make this even more fun and gave him a wink as she licked her lips. He swallowed hard, desperately avoiding her eyes. 'Never did tell me the name, luv,' she said softly.  
  
'It's Lieutenant Gillette, pirate,' he growled back.  
  
'And I can be yer dreams come true if you wish, mon amour.'  
  
'I know yer routine, Duville. I've heard the stories,' he said, now regaining some of his composure.  
  
'Ah, and since ye've heard of me, ye can tell I wasn't lying...' she casually ran her hands over her vest seductively to make the redcoat even more uncomfortable as she assured herself that the map was still in its hiding place. Comforted by the fact that it was still with her coupled with the fact that those bleedin' Lobsters had no clue about it, she looked boldly in Gillette's eyes again.  
  
He shook his head at the woman. 'How is it that a woman would engage in piracy? It's bad when men do it, but even worse for a woman.'  
  
She smiled at this chauvinistic comment, 'How's that luv? Cause the women become legends and make the men stand in their shadows?' 'No, it's worse for a woman because they should stay home and raise children, not go off seeking treasure causing amok and bloodshed in the process.'  
  
'What can I say? I'm just not the embroidery, needlework, homebound kind of girl, Gillette,' she replied sincerely as she shrugged her shoulders.  
  
'You'll pay for your crimes, Duville. Then you'll be sorry. Commodore Norrington himself will see to that. He's wanted your neck for a long time, ever since you killed Francis Steward. And since your list of misdemeanors only got longer ever since you turned pirate, so there's all the more reason to hang you. Why just today you've added robbery and a second count of manslaughter. I've been looking forward to this moment for a long time as well Duville,' he said while another man clapped the iron cuffs around her wrists. 'This could possibly mean my promotion...' he added rubbing his hands together.  
  
'Commodore... Norrington...?' Devon's eyes widened in shock her mind registered this statement. She was rendered speechless for a moment, and her eyes grew so wide that her pupils had almost completely disappeared in the blue colour of her irises. 'Am I in the wrong port? Didn't he used to be a Lieutenant in Nassau?'  
  
'Not anymore Duville. And ever since you escaped him there, I am willing to bet that he will see to it that you get special treatment this time.'  
  
_Damn to the blazes, she hated that man. And now not only was he a Commodore, but was after her head as well. Oh this was just peachy. She could still hear that darling monotone voice of his whispering threats into her ear. It was only by seducing him during their last encounter that she had ever managed to escape. She didn't even want to think of the odds of that particular method working against him again. Men with bruised egos were never ones that could let go of the past easily... And it certainly did not help that ego of his now that he's a Commodore... Oh she could tell already that this meeting was not going to be pretty.  
_  
'Somebody's been doing their homework! Such a good boy! Yer mommy must be ever so proud of you. I bet yer one of those little boys that get milk and cookies when ye go home, eh? Meself, I am personally looking forward to the day I get to repay my undying gratitude to you, Wiggy,' she retorted as she struggled desperately to get out of the grip from the men that restrained her.  
  
There was no way she could escape... and now they had placed shackles on her that were clasped around her ankles. 'Why the shackles? Ye afraid I'll run away? I can reassure you boy, Devon Duville never runs while in entertaining company. And while we're being honest with each other, might I point out that I happen to find handcuffs very arousing?' she said licking her lips.  
  
'Gag her!' Gillette commanded one of the men, 'I can't stand hearing one more of those filthy comments leave her mouth!' Devon leaned forward, lowering her head, and when the man who was supposed to gag her hovered above her she swiftly brought her head up to connect with his, using as much strength she could muster and knocked him out. Even though her head now felt as if it she had taken a blow to the head from a huge sledge hammer, she was not going down without a fight.  
  
_This is all rather pointless and ye know it, Dee. Ye should've killed them when you had the chance, and now there's no way in hell to get out of this. Now see what that bleedin' mutt has gotten you into now?  
_  
She proceeded to curse herself for getting caught, curse Bullet for vanishing into thin air, and curse the entire damned town of Port Royal. She hadn't even realized that her attention had strayed from her beloved redcoats until she felt something hard hit the back of her head just before everything went black.

* * *

Jack had docked his beloved Pearl on the other side of the ridge just outside the harbor of Port Royal, so that she would be out of sight of the preying eyes of the Royal Navy. He hated going to Port Royal, mainly because it took so much difficulty and caution just to pay his good friends a visit. But he couldn't very well leave his past behind and never check up on good friends. He decided to go ashore by himself, not wanting to endanger any of his crew simply because he wanted to visit with Will and Elisabeth. AnaMaria wanted to come along, since she would've loved to be able to catch up with Liz, but Jack had told her that he had to make sure it was safe before he allowed any of the crew to go ashore as well.  
  
As he neared the harbour, he could smell the fancy perfumes and colognes the wealthy women wore. Port Royal smelled almost serene. So much different then the aroma Tortuga had. Tortuga was an interesting combination of rum, horniness, blood and gunpowder. He had decided a long, long time ago that he liked the aroma of the latter best.  
  
As he reached the docks, he rowed the ship's boat underneath the docks and up to the shore, where he got out and pulled it ashore. He then dragged the boat into the shadows under the dock, where it would remain hidden, and crept cautiously into the outskirts of the town. From there he stealthily made his way towards the Blacksmith's Shop. He tried to keep in the shadows, since the last thing he wanted at that moment was to attract more attention to himself than was necessary. As he reached the smithy he grinned as he saw light coming out from between the cracks in the wooden door. It appeared that dear William was doing overtime.  
  
He didn't want to knock, he wanted to make an entrance and perhaps scare the eunuch a little. _Much more fun that way!_ He barged in, the door swung widely and heavily after Jack kicked it open. It collided with the wall as an unstoppable force would with an immovable object, and thus made quite a noise. Will dropped the hot poke he that he held in the fire on the floor in surprise. 'Ye should pick that up lad. Wouldn't want yer fine shop ta be lost in flames now would ye?'  
  
'Jack! You scared the living daylights out me!' He said as he threw a death glare over his shoulder at his friend. 'Curse you! I could have just done that!' Will muttered incoherently as he picked the poke up from the ground and stamped on the floor to prevent the hay from catching fire. After he made sure nothing would catch flame, he walked over to his old friend and hugged him as though he would never let go.  
  
'There, there, mate. I knew you'd be happy to see me, but if ye keep holding onto me like this, I will have to start seriously doubting dear Lizzy's ability to satisfy yer needs.'  
  
'That's no way to speak of my wife, Jack,' he retorted with slight irritation in his voice.  
  
'Forgive me. A thousand apologies,' Jack said mockingly holding his palms together and bowing his head, his trinkets falling into his face.  
  
'Apology accepted. I swear, you pirates just don't know how to behave,' he mocked as he shook his head in despair.  
  
'I take it yer not a eunuch then... Although you do seem to be forgetting that pirate is in your blood as well lad.'  
  
'I never forget that, Jack. What brings you here anyway? I take it you're not only here to talk about old times...'  
  
'You wound me, mate. In fact I am, I was reminiscing about the old times and since we were near Port Royal I merely thought of payin' ye two a visit. Come ta think of it, where is the lovely and enchanting Mrs. Turner?'  
  
'Elisabeth is reading. She's in for quite the surprise. She'll be delighted to see you – if she hasn't heard you already that is.'  
  
The two men left the workshop and walked through a small hallway, entering the room where Elisabeth was reading and softly humming to herself. She was so engaged in her book that she didn't even notice Will approach her as Jack sneaked in behind him.  
  
'Liz, love, look what the cat dragged in...'  
  
Elisabeth took her eyes off the pages and looked at her husband for a brief moment, before returning her eyes to her book again. 'Silly, we don't even have a cat.'  
  
Jack stepped out from behind Will, who doffed his tricorn off and bowed graciously at Elisabeth, but she didn't even notice this as she still seemed lost in her book.  
  
'I think the whelp meant me luv. Though I must admit that I'd wagered that ye'd be a little more enthusiastic ta see ol' Jack.'  
  
The woman almost jumped from her chair when she heard his voice, and she immediately dropped the book and hugged him.  
  
'Easy on the goods there, luv,' Jack taunted while grinning from ear to ear.  
  
'What a wonderful surprise! It's good to see you Jack. What have you been up to lately?' She fired questions at him while she pulled out a chair and forced him down in it. 'Do tell!'  
  
He was tempted to make up an entertaining story, but given the fact that he knew how perceptive Elisabeth was, he just recounted his steps back to last time he had seem them both. Naturally that happened to be at the wedding he had attained, their wedding to be precise. While spouting off information about his last trip to Tortuga, the evil vixen he had met there entered his mind again. He quickly shoved her aside, since there was no need to tell the Turners about the Hellcat. _No, no need at all.  
_  
Will uncorked a bottle of wine to celebrate their reunion, while Elisabeth made a small snack. Jack gulped down the fine red wine as if it were water, which naturally got Elisabeth slightly miffed. 'Do you know how expensive that was, Jack? It's a very rare French Bordeaux and it's from a fine year as well.' Elisabeth pointed out, agitated that Jack wasn't sipping it like he should have been.  
  
Jack grinned at her, 'Oh but I do like it luv, it's just that I prefer rum, not rare, just strong.'  
  
Will suddenly rose from his chair furrowing his brow and tilting his head a little as though he was listening to something.  
  
'Something wrong with yer head, mate? Or do ye have problems holding yer wine? Some fine pirate ye are...'  
  
'Hush!' he whispered. 'I hear something.'  
  
'The voices inside yer mind talkin' again, lad?' Jack said smirking while emptying his glass in one swig.  
  
Will waved his hands at Jack silently ordering him to keep his mouth shut.  
  
'No, what I hear is more of a scratching sound...'  
  
Jack listened closely and found that he could hear it too. 'It's coming from yer workshop, mate. It's nothing more than the cat that wants in,' he said dismissively while taking a refill on his glass.  
  
Will and Elisabeth replied simultaneously and exasperated, 'We don't have a cat!'  
  
'In that case, it won't be the cat then, eh?' Jack smirked as he downed some more of the wine.  
  
Will stood up and walked towards his workshop, 'I'll just go take a look...'**And now, get over to that little blue button and review already, especially if you wanna win the mystery prize.....**


	14. Meeting old friends and suppressing new ...

_DISCLAIMER: I-DO-NOT-OWN-ANYTHING-THAT-BELONGS-TO-THE-MOUSE, SAVVY? There is a song in this chappie as well (I love songs, in case you haven't noticed that little fact) and it's called Dark side of me and belongs to Allanah Myles._

_02-05-05 The song that used to be in here was called Dark side of me and belonged to Allanah Myles. Since doesn't want lyrics posted here, unless the author wrote them, I've re-written them myself. So the lyrics in this song are by me… just based upon the song I just mentioned. _

E**/n (aka Editor's Note – yes, this is another note from Linnie): Now first I would like to tell you that I'm sorry for delaying this chapter so long. It's been a busy few weeks for both DuTchess and I so we haven't had the time to work on it much. I like that you all enjoy the story so much that you've begun to pull out the weapons in an attempt to get DuTchess and I to finish faster. Very nice. Other than that m'dears, I wanted to tell you that the 'mystery prize' was to be awarded for the one who could identify the "Zorro" reference (see note on last chapter for more info). I decided it would be fun to put something in every chapter for you all. (wink) So perhaps this time you might be able to find it. Now I have two "Ever After" references in here, along a PotC reference for good measure... So happy hunting!**

**A/N My lovely beta-reador, editor and special frien, already explained the slight delay in posting to yall. But I have to inform you that I shall leave on monday on a three week holiday. No worries about a further delay in posting, I've already written two more chapters, wich are currently visiting Linthilde. Once she has finished editing, she will post them. So if you would be so kind as to review a bit before monday morning to tell me if you like what we've cooked up, I would be a very happy camper (litterally) LOL! So now enjoy!**

Chapter 14

**_Meeting old friends and suppressing new feelings..._**

Where we left off:

'In that case, it won't be the cat then, eh?' Jack smirked as he downed some more of the wine.

Will stood up and walked towards his workshop, 'I'll just go take a look...'

As Will crept towards the door of his smithy, he paused to listen to the sound once more. It appeared that the sound was getting louder the closer he got to the door. What amused Will the most about this situation is that the sound really did sound like a cat that was trying to be let back in. He chuckled quietly at the thought of Jack being right, but had no intention of telling the pirate when he returned to the house. Jack would only hold it over him, and Will didn't fancy giving him that type of ammunition.

He covered the distance to the smithy fairly quickly while lost in thought and was a little surprised when he almost collided with the door. After chiding himself for not paying attention, Will opened the door and saw nothing at first, but then he felt something nudge his leg and looked down to see the little French bulldog he had seen with the female pirate that had wanted to buy a sword earlier.

Since she never returned he figured she had lied about the sword, so he had forgotten all about her while he began to work on another blade.

Jack walked down the hallway only to find Will still standing at the door to the smithy. He looked over Will's shoulder, only to see nothing there. 'What is it, dear William?'

'It's a dog.'

'You 'ave a dog then? Oh, I just love dogs!'

Elisabeth trailed behind Jack and came up behind the two men. 'No, Jack. We don't.'

As Jack looked down, his eyes grew wide.

'Forget what I just said, I hate dogs... I bloody hate 'em! This can't be! How did this dog get 'ere?'

'Oh look, Will!' Elisabeth peered over her husband's shoulder to see the dog. 'It's the darling dog that came in with the lady pirate! Now what was his name again...? Buddy... Bully... no, Bullet! Come here you sweet little thing!' Elisabeth said sweetly, trying to coax the dog over to her. The dog instantly walked towards Elisabeth, who then sat down on the floor as the little French bulldog started to lick her hand. After greeting Elisabeth, Bullet then turned to Jack and started waving its little tail and nudged his leg with its head.

Jack shoved Will aside and poked his head around the door. There was nothing there, not another soul. _How did that bleedin' mutt get here, and why isn't the Hellcat here with the wretched thing? She never leaves it... Why didn't she come too? He thought about her absence with a sense of loss and longing. Longing! WHY was it that I can't get rid o' these feelings when I think about that heinous bitch? And just WHY does she always seem to pop up in me mind!  
_  
Elisabeth looked up to Will, 'Something must be wrong, dear. She said the dog never left her side and seeing how much she loved this little one, I would've thought that she would never let it out of her sight.'

Jack couldn't help himself. He had to know about this lady pirate that dear Lizzy seemed to know so much about. 'Who was the lady pirate that was here? Ye remember why she was even here in the first place?'

'Her name was Devon Duville,' Will replied as Jack cringed when he heard the name he had expected. 'At least, that's what it was if I'm remembering correctly. She originally came in because she wanted to buy a sword, but said she had some business to attend to, so she left. Strange thing is that she said that she'd return later, but never came back.'

'So she left the dog behind...?' Jack suggested.

'Heavens no! As soon as she told us she had to leave she leashed it and went to the Edwards villa. I was the one that gave her directions, so I should know.' Elisabeth retorted, while she tried to regain the dog's attention.

'Who's Edwards?'

'He's a navy officer. I don't know why she would've wanted to see him though...' Elisabeth answered, still coaxing the dog to come to her, but was failing miserably since it did not seem to want to leave Jack's side.

'Jack?' she queried.

'Aye?'

'This dog knows you.'

'Whatever makes ye think that, lass?' He smoothly responded as inwardly he cursed Elisabeth for being so perceptive.

'Because it seems to enjoy being with you. Dogs like this one aren't usually too keen on being around people they don't know, and since you never called him, I concluded that it must know you. And since you know the dog, therefore you also know the pirate lass that owns him... Do you not?' Elisabeth studied his face, seeing if eyes would give him away as Will's so often did.

Jack kicked himself for being so bloody inquisitive and cursed Lizzy again for being too smart for her own damn good._ Dandy... this was just dandy! How can I possibly wiggle me way out o' this one?_

* * *

Devon hadn't been conscious for more than a few moments before she became painful aware of something that was making her feel as though her head were split in two. She slowly raised her arm and touched the back of her head, grazing her fingers past an incredibly large bump and cursing herself the next moment at the surge of pain that ripped through her head once again. She couldn't concentrate on anything under this condition, let alone figure out where in God's name she was. Her head was pounding like hell and she was afraid her skull might burst if the pain got any worse. _This is more painful than the worst hangover EVER!_ She held her head in her hands while her fingers tangled in her curls and she gently rocked herself. All of this ceased immediately when her ears picked up some low whispering coming from her left. _Dammit Dee, keep yerself together woman! Don't sit here and rock yerself like yer some infant! Yer a strong woman fer crying out loud! Bloody hell... I am strong, right? Dear Lord, did really just think that? This is not good...  
_  
After Devon realised how much of an arse she must've looked like, she removed her hands from her head and slowly raised it. Nice 'n slow now Dee... no sense in makin' this feel any worse than it already does. This thought managed to produce a small smirk on her lips as she glanced around. Not much to see tho'... she mused as she saw nothing but bars and solid walls which surrounded her. When she tried to turn her aching head a bit, she saw two filthy looking men stare back at her.

Flashes of previous events came back to her..._ Port Royal... Inca treasure with a horrible name... Navy officers... Those damned bayonets... Two redcoats who were now dead by her hand ... Bullet – gone... The inevitable 'short drop and sudden stop' that now awaited her... And all for that bloody map!  
_  
THE MAP! She felt beneath her vest... yes! The map was still there, safe from prying eyes nestled in her bosom. She smirked. _Truly amazin' how those wigs seemed t' be more afraid of catching viruses th' likes o' me than catchin' bullets or being run through by swords..._

'Ello poppet.' Her head nearly whipped around at the voice, but she managed to prevent it ... Don't even wanna think how much tha' woulda hurt...

'Oh goody... Not only do they stare but they talk as well,' she mocked in a near-perfect English accent. She smirked back at the men and ran a hand through her curls in order to get some of the hay out.

'Yer Devon Duville ain't ya?' the other man questioned.

'Now what gave tha' away? Me graceful ent'ring of these high quality fancy establishments?' she switched back to her natural drawl as she grinned at her answer.

'Not quite poppet, but there are more guards down 'ere then before ye was brought in, and I've 'eard them say ye were to be watched wit' eagle eyes, seein' that ye've escaped before. And asides that, we've met before. Don't ye remember?' the man asked her with pleading eyes.

'Can't say that I do, lad,' Devon retorted flatly. At the moment she was too concerned with surveying her surroundings, well, that and looking for a way out naturally.

'Singapore...' he said as if to jog her memory of their meeting. As if that one word would instantly bring back all the memories needed.

'Oh yes, well tha' makes it SO much clearer fer me mate. Do ye not realise that I've prob'ly met HUNDREDS of sailors like ye while docked in Singapore! Just what makes ye think I'd remember ye anyway? Of course I know why ye remember me, as I do tend ta make a dashin' impression on the male species an' all...'

The man wouldn't give up, since he knew for a fact that she had fancied him all those years back.

'Ye tattooed me upper arm, made the design yerself, ye did. And ye also told me that ye'd ne'er met a man as strong and good lookin' as me,' he stated flashing her what he thought was a brilliant smile while he pulled up his sleeve in order to show her the work done by her own hands.

'Ah, I remember that tattoo... quite well in fact. That was a good one wasn't it?' she smirked but left no pause during her reminiscent tale. 'But about th' strong and good lookin' thing... I say that all the time, luv. Ta ALL the men, it's basically to soothe 'em, make 'em a bit more comfortable, ya know? Nothin' new and unusual 'bout that luv,' she explained while she studied the design on his tan shoulder. It was a snake entwined with an anchor. Wasn't all that hard to do really ... Though it would've been tricky for someone without her flawless taste and supreme abilities.

'Ye do need a touch up though luv. I ain't got my stuff here with me now, but as soon as I'm out ye should look me up,' she said winking at the men.

'I doubt that either of us will ever get out of 'ere alive, Duville.'

'Make that all three o' us, mate,' the other man added.

'Well, ye see, here be th' problem. I've always said that I'd go down with a big bang, an' I sure as hell ain't gonna settle fer no 'short drop and a sudden stop' shit. It's just not me...' she replied firmly. Even though she knew the man was right, there was no use telling him that. She wasn't gonna get out of here alive... unless she managed to come up with a brilliant plan that is. But naturally in order to get that brilliant plan, she would need rum – and lots of it... And since it just so happened that there wasn't any around this bloody cell, she was doomed.

'What are ye in for anyways, Duville?' the man asked, still somewhat disappointed that he hadn't made the impression on her that he thought he did all those years back.

'What I'm in for? Well, fer just being me lovely little wicked self, I'd wager,' she responded with a smirk.

With that she shoved her back up against the wall and wrapped her arms around her legs. This whole situation had gotten out of hand. If there was one thing Devon hated, it was loosing control. And it seemed she had indeed lost all control... it was all out of her hands now. She was stuck here without a thing to do but wonder what exquisite torture James bloody Norrington has in store for her simply because she's always so stubborn and headstrong. If she'd only let Dacosta, or anyone for that matter, come with her, then she wouldn't be in this mess. Together they could have kicked some serious lobster tail. But NO... she just had to bring the bloody dog with her rather than a crewmate and she just HAD to prove herself again. It wasn't even as though she needed to, because she knew that not one of her crewmates underestimated her abilities. But perhaps it was she that had overestimated herself. She had been caught completely off guard when the bloody dog decided to play games with her. And now to make matters even worse, she had turned into a puppet on a string, or rather a poppet on a strong thick rope to be exact. But that's not even the best part! Not only was she sure she'd be hung, but the one the held the strings and pulled her wires, who was now able to control her every move, was none other than James Norrington. _I am a dead woman._

_A dead woman I may be ... but I'll be damned if those lobsters find me map! Should hide it somewhere else, lest those fools decide they need ta search me bodice or flog me – o' now tha' I wouldn't mind ..._ Devon grinned salaciously at the thought. _Now, now Dee ... now's th' time fer plannin', not ta have yer mind in th' gutter ... altho' I must admit it's quite fun down there._ Devon's grin widened. Once she was able to extract her mind from the gutter, Devon risked a quick glance around the area to see if anyone was watching her, hoping that those wigs wouldn't choose this moment to check up on her.

The coast was clear, so she removed the map from its hiding place and tucked it inside of her left boot, pulling her breeches over it. No one would notice it there. Since they had already robbed her of her effects, there would certainly be no need to check her again. Also, since it was currently residing in her boot, it couldn't scrape her sides and stomach, and make her quite uncomfortable. After that she pulled her hat over her eyes and used the quiet time to fabricate a plan for her escape. Norrington had made the mistake of underestimating her once, but he wouldn't fall for her tricks for a second time... that much she knew. She just had to wait for a chance, an opportune moment to...

_Yes? What had ye planned on doing exactly, Dee? Yer mind's as empty as a blank sheet._

She ran a hand along the side of her neck, subconsciously scratching her latest scar underneath her scarf. As if on cue, flashes from the night she had gained that particular scar made their way into her mind. A slight smile formed on her lips when the pleasant memory of Sparrow's kiss flashed through her head... She remembered all too well how vulnerable she had been that night. That man had really gotten under her skin... He had completely torn down her wall of self control, and all he'd done was kiss her. No man had ever crossed that line before... Well, that was not entirely true. Only one other man had managed to do that before, but still it had taken him years to do so. And alas, he didn't live to tell the tale. Even though she had truly loved Francis, she had been young and naïve back then. So naturally there were times when he would promise her the world – and she, the stupid cow she was, believed him. It was only after they were engaged that he tried to change her, to keep her indoors. He restrained her and tied her down. Suddenly it seemed that he didn't approve of her lifestyle anymore. He was jealous of her love for the sea and livid at the constant attention she got from other men. Strange, because he always claimed to love the way Devon embraced life. Then one night Devon had found herself on the edge of that thin line between love and hate, and she realized the only way to regain her freedom again was to kill the leech that sucked out her passion for life and adventure. She closed her eyes, and allowed her thoughts to wander free in her mind... She didn't want to dwell on thoughts on Francis, and anything else would do at the moment.

Not even a few seconds had passed when who should pop into her mind but none other than Captain Jack Sparrow. _Oh bloody, bloody hell! First th' damned scar made me think o' that bastard ... then Sparrow's kiss caused me ta think about Francis, how they both broke me walls – which ironically I thought ta be impossible, which it obviously isn't ... But naturally once I try ta evict the thoughts o' Francis from me mind who should come back ta bite me in the arse but Jack bloody Sparrow!  
_  
_Damn! What possessed me ta bring back those memories in th' first place? Oh yes, Sparrow... Oh GOD NO! Why th' hell does that man make me feel so weak? How is it that he was able ta cross that damned line so easily ... s' never been that easy fer anyone before... Have I crossed it in the opposite direction? But she HATED him! Not only that but she knew for sure that he hated her too. She knew, because... because he acted like she did. Oh my god... This is not good. Th' things ye hated most about Sparrow – his smug grin, his wits, the arrogance, his loose seductive behaviour, the double meanings in almost every word he spoke... Good Lord, Dee! He does exactly what you do, acts the same way you do and ye hate him for that... Is this why he makes her so angry? Simply because he treats her like she treats him...? It's all too damn familiar... Devon suddenly felt cold inside... No man had ever dared to speak up to her – and the ones who did would end up like Francis. Sparrow had disrespected her, threatened her, hurt her, cornered her and kissed her and she had just walked away from him. She didn't do ANYTHING to him! Why Dee? Why haven't you killed him? Ye certainly seem ta hate him enough ... Why are you allowin him ta take ye fer granted? S' not like he's special... But he didn't tremble or swoon for her like all the others. He didn't fear her because she didn't fear him. Perhaps she hated him the way she did because she hated the fact that he had somehow made his way into her hear – HELL NO!  
_  
_I BLOODY WANT THAT DAMNED MAN OUT O' ME SYSTEM!_

_

* * *

'Miss Duville, at long last we meet again...' It was the sound of that monotone voice which spoke to her, as it overly pronounced every word upon delivery, that so brutally yanked her from her reverie._

'Huh?' Devon muttered, unwillingly being pulled back into consciousness... only to be faced with the Commodore. She got up and slowly swaggered towards the wall of iron bars that stood between her and James Norrington. When she reached them, she casually leaned on the bars with one arm and put her other hand on her hips.

'This is all you've come up with, Duville? No witty snide remarks? No obscene propositions? I am amazed, thoroughly astounded,' he said raising an eyebrow and looking at her in disgust.

'Well James, I've amazed you before, haven't I? I distinctly remember how yer jaw dropped the last time we met and how ye were more than willin ta listen to my indecent proposals, though ye were a bit shy at first... But puttin that aside, this is quite a way ta greet a former lover, Norrie. Figured you'd missed me, but ta lock me up in a prison-cell in order to ravish me – or at least claim me all ta yerself – now don't you think that's a tad bit out o' line even for a Commodore?'

In a shot, his arms went through the bars that held her captive and his hands seized her throat. Devon swallowed... or at least she tried to, given the fact that he was choking her she couldn't manage that too well. He was slowly but surely killing her, here and now. She tried to free herself, thinking he might loosen his grip if she began digging her fingernails into his hands. _Perhaps I shouldn't bait poor Norrie anymore. It seems that white wig has drained his sense of humour bone-dry._

He let up the pressure he held on her only slightly so that she could breathe, but still left his hands around her neck as to keep the threat fresh in her mind. 'I intend to do nothing of the sort, pirate. You've escaped your destiny once, but you can count on the fact that this time, I will see to your care personally.'

'Aw, ye care about my wellbeing, how noble of ye, dear. I'd fancy a bit of yer special treatment though. Ye should know that I've cherished the memories of Nassau deep in me heart.'

'You do not even have a heart, Miss Duville'

'You wound me dear. But let's skip the chit-chat and get down to business here... To what do I owe the honour of yer visit, Norrie?'

'Don't call me that, Duville.' His voice had taken an edge to it, but was still quite monotone. His eyes stared into hers and seemed as cold as ice, even with the damp heat that found its way into the fort's dungeons.

'My apologies...' And even though she didn't mean it, she would do anything to get Norrie to remove his hands from her neck.

'You've killed two of my finest men today, Duville.'

'Those were your finest? Some pride of the King's Royal Navy they were ... getting beaten by a girl,' she snorted.

'You are to be brought in for questioning later this afternoon. The magistrate and I need to have some questions answered before we decide what to do with you.'

'I would be delighted,' she said, her voice dripping with an icy sweetness and turned her back on him, swaggering back to the far wall of her cell once more.

Devon knew there was no other option for her besides the gallows, but since they were determined to question her, maybe she use it to her advantage and could try to buy herself some time. And if by some miracle she did manage to get a trial before her sentence, she would have even more options open to her... _Perhaps Drake would search for her; maybe they'd spring her out of here...  
_  
She sighed, _No they won't as ye know it Dee. They had the code to think of, and no one aboard the Hazard had ever broken the code. She was the one who fell behind and she would stay behind, map or no bloody map. _

'Duville! Ye look a bit tense, darling. Me thinks that ye could do with a bit of a distraction...' the man in the cell next to her said huskily.

'An' ME thinks that I find the gallows more exciting then that offer of yours at the moment, so shut yer hole or I'm gonna have another misdemeanour fer Norrie ta add on me list!'

'SILENCE!' one of the four guards yelled to them.

'Oh bite me!' Devon growled.

Devon curled herself up at the back of her cell, and used her hat as a pillow. Once she finally settled, rays of sunlight shone through the small 'window' above her, giving her the glare of the sun in her eyes. Just peachy. She shifted slightly as to get aware from the glare, and sighed dejectedly. She needed a plan, and quick, to get out of here. The only problem with her situation was that she needed a damn good plan, since she knew the plan she used in her escape from Nassau Port would not work this time. There was far too much hatred in Norrington's eyes, and besides that, she just couldn't feign being attracted to him anymore. It disgusted her ...

_Not like Sparrow... Now where th' hell did that come from!_ It seemed that Jack Sparrow had taken up residence in her mind again and Devon couldn't escape his image. He seemed to have claimed every free space in her mind. She began to contemplate again about the thin line between love and hate... Could it be that she was afraid? _No, Devon Duville is fearless. I am fearless and not afraid of Sparrow. Afraid of Sparrow? What a thought!_ 'You may not be afraid of Sparrow, but you are afraid of how he makes you feel...' _Come again?_ 'He makes you feel weak Dee,' the voice inside her mind continued. 'You can't think straight when you are around him and even when you're not around him, you think of him. Now what does that tell you?'

'That I won't listen to you anymore, ye stupid cow!' she cried aloud... _Oh great, she was talking to herself again... just dandy. _

She concentrated on her breathing for a moment, then proceeded to sing. She found that things like this gave her a level head and cleared her thoughts for a few moments. So she started to sing, even if it was rather soft and sung mostly to herself...  
_  
Your eyes send shivers down my spine_

_they're dark, but look like mine._

_It's like I see my soul's reflection in a mirror baby_

_I get confused by what I see_

_When I look at you,_

_I see the worst side of me_

Carved from the same wood, two of a kind

_We we're raised on the wrong side of a one track mind_

_We can never be together_

_That's what I've come to see_

'_Cause I don't now whose worse.. you or me._

_Looking at you, baby, I see the worst side of me._

She closed her eyes and kept lulling the same song over and over. She found that the song helped her to put her thoughts into perspective. She thought about what her inner voice had told her, and even though she had no idea as to how or why or when it happened, she realized that the voice was right. She hated the fact that this was allowed to happen – and without her knowledge as well! This voice inside her head had made a point, and while she tried desperately to ignore it, it was no use. A fact was a fact... and even she could not deny that. Sparrow had a hold on her and it was getting more than just physical, more than just an attraction...

* * *

But Jack Sparrow couldn't escape Elisabeth's prying eyes. 'Tell me Jack, you know the lady pirate that came here, don't you?'

Jack didn't speak. He found that he couldn't lie to Elisabeth, so he simply nodded.

'How Jack? Is she a part of your crew?' Will asked with curiosity.

'Most definitely not!' he snapped. 'That woman is a friend of Ana's an' we met in Tortuga only recently.'

'You met?' he asked raising an eyebrow. 'Jack she is a pirate and a very attractive one at that...' Will continued, all the while trying to avoid the cold look Elisabeth was shooting in his direction. 'You don't just casually meet woman that look like her, Jack. You want them!'

'Do not!'

Will snorted in disbelief and Elisabeth decided to add her two cents to the matter at hand. 'Jack, you and the pirate lady were involved in Tortuga, weren't you? I've seen her, Jack. She's quite beautiful and given that I happen know what Tortuga's like – from experience–' as she shot a look at Jack, 'and I know what you're like Jack, just tell the truth.'

Jack rolled his eyes at the two of them. 'Well me guess is that the woman didn't talk at all while she was 'ere. Cause if the both o' ye are so smitten with her, she probably didn't open that trap o' hers at all.'

'Jack!' Elisabeth said in exasperation. 'She was quite a lovely woman, even if she is a pirate.' Jack glared at her for that jibe. 'She was also very nice, or at least to me she was,' she continued while she gave Will a knowing look.

'Aha! Just proven me point, lass. She seems to hate men and thinks that their only use is being pawns in her dirty little games.'

'She used you?' Will asked dumbfounded.

'God no! Try as she might, the lass certainly wanted to. That woman is Satan's Apprentice I tell ye! One moment she has the hots fer me, throwing herself at me, singing into my ear – and who could blame her, after all I am Captain Jack Sparrow – but the next she's as cold as ice and pushes me away!' he scoffed. 'Not only that but that bitch has got one hell of an attitude problem.'

'Looks like the two of you would get along just fine,' Will teased him, grinning like a Cheshire cat and winking at his wife.

'Don't even go there dear William, just drop the subject.'

And with that said he turned on his heel and made his way back into the Turners living room, refilled his glass and downed the red wine in one shot.

Will and Elisabeth didn't follow Jack, but instead Will opted to stay near the door to the smithy and as Elisabeth began to walk away he pulled her back to him and planted his lips onto hers.

While Jack was in the living room, he felt something nudge his feet, so he looked under the table to see the little black and white bulldog sprawled out next to his well worn boots.

_Now that's something I don't see yer mistress do, though I admit that I'd like ta see that someday... _

AND THERE SHE IS AGAIN! OH WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ME! WHY CAN'T I ESCAPE THE BITCH AND SIMPLY VISIT OLD FRIENDS? WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO CLAIM EVERY THOUGHT THAT CROSSES ME MIND AND WHY IS SHE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE? And where the hell did she go to anyways?

There was a lot Jack Sparrow didn't know about Devon, but he knew for a fact that she wouldn't leave her dog behind willingly... something must have happened...

_She got caught, didn't she? Damn, that must be what happened – the unattainable Devon Duville had a little run in with the redcoats..._ His trademark grin plastered his face, but all of a sudden he got a strange feeling, one that gave him a horrible sensation in the pit of his stomach. _She got caught, Jack! Ye can't just sit here smirking, DO something.  
_  
'Hell no! Serves 'er right, fer messin' with me and messin' with me mind,' he ranted aloud, attempting to convince himself not to go after her.

But the voice inside his head didn't go away, nor did the sinking feeling in his stomach.

_Who are ye trying to convince here, Jack? Ye know ye want to see her.  
_  
'Yeah, I wanna see her – wanna see the Hellcat locked up!'

_Ye don't mean that and ye know it Jack. She's gonna hang if ye don't do somethin', she's gonna break her royal pain-in-the-arse neck and then where would ye be?_

'Then I'll be able ta forget 'bout her, an' besides, she's got what it takes ta escape! She's just like me.'

_DAMMIT! That's it! She's just like me... attractive, witty, seductive, strong, daring, fearless... And I just happen to despise her for it... or do ye? And why the HELL am I talkin' to meself again!  
_  
'That's it! I've had enough! I'm goin' after her!' He was in a rage over these damned feelings, so he stormed out of the living room, barging through the door and back towards the smithy. In his fit of rage he nearly knocked a passionately kissing Will and Elisabeth onto the floor.

'Who are you going after, Jack?' Will asked after breaking free from his wife's lips.

'None other than Satan's apprentice herself! An' ye two are gonna watch her mutt, while I go think o' a plan...'

* * *

Devon was led into a well lit, overly decorated room where Commodore Norrington, Lieutenant Gillette and another wigged-one, probably the Magistrate, waited for her. She was forced into a chair, her hands restrained by cuffs.

The man in the awful grey wig spoke first.

'Now Miss Duville, we have a few questions that we would like answered.'

'An' here I had figured that ye knew all th' answers already, why else have me arrested?' Devon spat back.

'Speak only when you're spoken to, Duville,' Norrington snapped.

'He just bloody spoke ta me, now didn't he?' Devon retorted while she shot a fierce glare at Norrington.

'Name your Captain, Duville, and the ship you sail on,' Norrington commanded.

'Over my dead body,' she snarled back.

Gillette bent over a little and looked her directly in the eyes with an icy glare before he spoke, 'Oh that can be arranged, pirate.'

'Suit yerself darlin', if that gets ye off, then by all means I'd love ta see you in action. Though I must admit that I didn't peg ye ta be the type for even perverted fantasies... but necrophilia? That goes a bit far, even fer me,' she said licking her lips. Gillette quickly sat down again and avoided her eyes. Devon knew she struck a chord and she grinned.

The older man spoke again, more softly this time, 'Listen dear, just name your captain and ship, and maybe we will be mild on you.'

'Maybe we will be mild on you...' she repeated his words in a thick accent, her voice positively dripping with sarcasm. 'Heavens, does that mean ye'll hang me with a velvet rope? Oh Goody! What fun! And b'fore ye ask again – NO yer not gonna hear any names from me luscious lips, 'cept yer own if ye wish it.'

The older man remained patient with Devon while the Commodore still remained seated, silently fuming at her antics. The older man addressed her again, patiently asking another question. 'Let's try another one then, why are you here Miss Duville?'

'Perhaps you would allow me to set the record straight ...' she began in her near-perfect English accent. 'But ye arrested me didn't ya, so why don't you tell me why I'm here,' she baited as she pretended not to understand his question.

'DAMMIT DUVILLE, you know what the Magistrate meant! Why have you come to Port Royal?' Norrington was so close to throttling her that his hands were itching for her neck again.

'Ah, now me little mind can comprehend ... Ye see I needed new undergarments, fancy ones. Couldn't find any in Tortuga, so I figured you hoity-toity people would certainly have just the thing for little ol' me,' she said emotionless.

Norrington trembled with anger as he hovered over the table, his face inches away from hers. 'I want some respect from you Duville. It should be given freely be the likes of you, not have me demand it from you. But mark my words I'll get your respect even if I have to beat it out of you!'

'In order to gain respect, ye need ta give respect and I truthfully would not call the hospitality and me treatment in this lovely dungeon very respectful, James.' She examined her fingernails when she spoke to Norrington, so therefore she didn't notice the fist in front of her face, about to hit her.

Her head flew back when his knuckles met her cheekbone, and she hit the back of her head on the polished wood of the chair she sat in.

'James, for heavens sake contain yourself!' The Magistrate was in shock over the Commodore's actions and he attempted to pull Norrington away from Devon.

Devon felt weary, but regained composure quickly. 'Now that's a wonderful way to win me respect mate. Would you like to see what that's gotten ye ... well, let me show ye,' and she promptly spat in his face.

Another fist collided with her face and she blacked out for a brief moment.

After blinking her eyes and slowly regaining her consciousness, she slowly stood up from the chair and stepped forward. The room was spinning and Devon's head was pounding more loudly than ever before, her cheek and eyes were burning. _Eh, look...spots in front o' me eyes... oh this is not good, spots are bad...  
_  
Two guards and the lieutenant grabbed her and pulled her back. She pulled herself loose with the last bit of strength she could muster and came face to face with Norrington again. 'I'm sure you remember how I like spanking, James,' she spat his name out, 'but ye see, I did prefer it the other way 'round. An' ye seem to have forgotten about that little detail, darlin'. Let me refresh yer memory.' And with that said she entwined her fingers, her adrenaline pumping through her veins. She raised her hands above her head and quickly brought them down. The iron cuffs met Norrington's head with a great force that sent him to the ground. She was going straight to the gallows for this, she knew, but she didn't care. She couldn't let him get away with what they had done and said to her in this little room. There was no way in Hell she was going to sit here and take this shit.

The guards grabbed her forcefully and pulled her away from the Commodore. Devon didn't resist anymore, she knew that she had made her point. She glanced back at the Magistrate, the look in his eyes described her verdict, and it was crystal clear to her. There was to be no trial for her, she would hang and she would hang soon. But at least she had saved her Captain and her crew, she owed them that much. _Let's just hope they got away, that they'd gotten far away from this bloody place before the Hazard could be discovered by those bloody cursed wigs._

_**A/N II**_

_**Since you all were so eager to get me to posting, I will not review your reviews, this chappie. I shall answer a few questions to those who asked:**_

_**Funky-Flamingo: I don't know what I have with D's. Just started wondering about that myself as I read your review. Just like names starting with D's I think... I think they sound fierce, as they should! The capital T in my penname stands for the fact that I am DuTch! That's why I spell Duchess that special way! Thanx again for such a wonderfull review. (and for making me ponder my own ways...) LOL**_

_**Euterpe: the stress is in the fist syllable of her name, luv! Thanx for reviewing**_

_**Other special thanx and warm hugs go to:**_

_**PineAppleLint, Jacqme, jtgirl, Mags4711, zigzag, OddGirl , Charming Visions, gReeNeYedeLfguRL13, LaLa, Kate, Caribbean-mama**_

_**You Rule! Keep reviewing, so I have tons of mail when i get back from my holiday (where I shall be resting from hard work, and feeding my muse as I start writing more chappies)**_

_**Love you all! **_

_**The DuTchess Of Doom**_


	15. A Change of Heart?

_Usual disclaimers, even though I want him and wish I could have him... One would think that Disney could just lend him to me for a little bit? Anyway, all the things you recognize from PotC belong to Disney and co.The song that used to be in here was called Dark side of me and belonged to Allanah Myles. Since doesn't want lyrics posted here, unless the author wrote them, I've re-written them myself. So the lyrics in this song are by me… just based upon the song I just mentioned. Devon, however, is solely mine..  
_  
**E/n: I know, I know ... I hate not being able to get these chapters done faster for you all, and even though I know this is no excuse, but you have to realize that a normal chapter for DuTchess is around 12 pages, and this one was 15 when I first got it. I usually have quite a bit of free time during the week to work steadily on the chapter, but since the last update I have been particularly busy.**

**Anyway, after this chapter DuTchess only gave me one other that I will be able to edit and post before she returns, so I don't know how long of a wait you'll have between chapters 16 and 17. But now that all of that is over and done with ... there be more quotes for ye (one from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone, the movie, and yet another from Ever After) in this chapter me lovelies! See if you can find them. ;)  
**  
Chapter 15

**A Change of Heart?**

Jack went into a tavern that was near the smithy, but unfortunately it wasn't one of the rugged, raunchy ones with scantily clad women to enjoy – not like the ones he relished spending time in while he was in his beloved Tortuga. _Ah, Tortuga..._ but at least there was a good supply of rum at this particular pub, which meant it would have to do for the meanwhile. He drowned a few – well, more then a few to be perfectly honest – mugs of his favourite amber coloured liquor, while he came up with a proper plan. He didn't know why, but he needed to see Duville. It didn't seem to matter how cruel, how vicious or how much of a pain in the arse she was, he just couldn't just sit there with the knowledge that the vixen was in trouble. Hell, she deserved trouble, but HE wanted to be the one to give her that, not the bloody Royal Navy.

It wasn't until almost sunrise when Jack returned to the Turner Smithy. He spent quite a bit of time devising a good plan, making sure it would work. After all –he- had thought of it, so therefore it was a bloody brilliant plan. Granted, it wasn't exactly original, but there was no need to inform Duville of that minor detail. His lips formed a sly grin while he thought of the encounter he would soon have with the woman that made him act even more insane than he did normally. He longed to see the cocky, feisty hellcat caged, even though he knew that she would positively hate him to see her in such a state. Of course this might be what made the plan so perfect. It would indeed be most excellent to be able to gloat at her misfortune.

After he skilfully picked the lock of the Blacksmith's shop, he stormed through the smithy and down the hall that joined the smithy with the Turners house. He then made his way towards the Eunuch Master Bedroom and just barged in, without another thought about a little thing called privacy. After all, it was common knowledge to Jack that dear William was a eunuch, so he knew that there wouldn't be very much action going on in there anyway.

He strode into the room, stood next to the bed and looked down at his friend. _Just as I suspected, sleepin' like a little babe...  
_  
'Will!'

Jack tried calling for Will's attention, but since the eunuch didn't move a muscle, he attempted to rouse him by grabbing his shoulders and shaking him forcefully. He thought that this might help in order to wake him from whatever obviously lame dreams he was dreaming.

'William!'

At Jack's screech, Will slowly opened his eyes and came back into the world of the living. He stared blankly into Jack's eyes as Jack began speaking. 'I need me a cloak or some nice brown cloth along with a rope... Oh and I'll also be needing yer Bible!'

Will rubbed his eyes in a vain attempt to chase the sleep out of them, after realizing this was futile, he settled for just looking at Jack with squinted eyes. 'Come again?' he spoke, his voice still thick from sleep.

'No time ta explain lad, just help me wit' this. Now get up an' get yer lazy arse out of bed.'

'Fine, Jack... I'm awake. Now why do you need my cloak and the other things you just mentioned? What are you up to this time?'

Jack simply rolled his eyes. 'Well, I can't bloody well waltz into prison lookin' like me normal handsome self now can I? Now could ye hurry it up a bit, ain't got all day, mate...' he scoffed and eyed the still half-asleep Will with his hands on his hips while he tapped his foot impatiently.

Elisabeth rolled over and rubbed her eyes to look at the pair. 'What's going on Will? And what's this about a ball?'

Jack and Will looked at her with puzzled expressions and simultaneously asked, 'Ball!'

Elisabeth now sat upright in the bed and yawned, 'I thought I heard someone say something about waltzing...'

'There's no ball, luv. Just go back ta sleep...' he patted Elisabeth's arm reassuringly as she lay back down in the bed and closed her eyes once more. 'Now help me William, I be in need of a disguise.'

As Elisabeth snuggled under the covers again, she wanted to ask about this disguise of Jack's, but sleep claimed her again before she could even attempt to form her thoughts into words.

Will glanced longingly back at the bed and his sleeping wife before he stepped out of bed and put on his blue robe that hung on the bedpost.

'What do you have in mind, Jack?' he asked, still not having the foggiest clue about how Jack was going to manage to create a proper disguise from just a cloak and cloth.

'Much better, lad! Remember when you saved me from the noose and the officer read me proclamation?' Jack inquired. Of course he distinctly remembered every charge his proclamation stated, but he wanted to make sure the whelp did as well.

'Aye.'

'Then does impersonatin' a cleric of the Church of England ring a bell?'

Will's eyes widened as the meaning of the items Jack needed suddenly became blatantly apparent to him. 'Oh no! Jack, please tell me you're not going to...'

'That be _exactly _what I'm gonna do lad – and you're going to help me. Now, I've pulled it off once, so it's bound ta work a second time, as long as I do it right. Me guess is that they won't allow the tart ta have any visitors... but even they won't send away a Friar, now would they?' he smirked at Will. 'Of _course _they wouldn't! Those bloody wigs, being the noble God fearing Brits that they are, would never deny such a request and therefore would grant the bitch the last chance of to clean her conscience.'

William knew Jack had a point with his plan of his and decided to help him, since he knew Jack would do it with or without his help, and to be perfectly honest, Will would rather help than to have Jack get himself killed or caught trying another one of his _brilliant_ plans. With that thought in mind, he chuckled while he searched for his dark brown cloak.

'What's so funny, boy?'

'You say you hate her with a passion, and yet here you are going through all this trouble in order to save her. It's just incredibly ironic and I find it rather amusing, that's all,' Will said with a grin.

'Who said anythin' 'bout savin' her? I just wanna see the Hellcat locked up, that be all. Wanna see that she gets what she deserves.'

'Whatever you say Jack...' Will chuckled as he continued to dig through his dressers and closets.

'Good day, kind Sir,' said Jack as he greeted one of the men at the Fort that stood in front of him. Just for the occasion, he spoke in an amazingly accurate, almost perfect, British accent.

'Good day,' the guard replied.

'My name is Friar Brayden Gale and I am here to see the woman prisoner, the pirate. Our order finds it very important that she receive this last chance to clean her conscience and thus give her the ability to place her soul and destiny in the hands of the Almighty.'

'That particular prisoner isn't allowed any visitors, Sir. Not only that, but let me assure you that the woman you speak of does not have a soul to save. The woman is pure and utter evil. She truly is not even worthy of your time and effort.' _The man's right on th' money. She sure as hell don't deserve any chances and she's definitely evil... Nevertheless, you need ta see her, don't ye Jack?_ He grinded his teeth at the mere thought. _Yes, he bloody did...  
_  
It was this thought that set his plan into action and gave Jack the will to put on one of his finest charades, and what a convincing charade it was. 'You see Sir; we believe that every person – no matter their past or occupation – is worth the time and effort of the Church of England. Even black sheep are sheep, and we must tend and care to them nonetheless. Take me to her, so we might give her the chance to redeem herself from her dark past and pray for forgiveness before she is to be hanged.'

The guard glanced down at the thick black book Jack held in his hands before his eyes traveled over his attire, then back to meet Jack's own, and nodded.

'I shall take you to her, but I must warn you, this is no ordinary woman. Be careful.'

_Now tell me somethin' I don't know... _Once the guard's back was turned, a small smile formed on his well-shaped lips.

'Honestly this woman is a menace. She killed two of our finest men, injured two others, pick-pocketed the Governor's money pouch, and broke into Officer Edwards's house all in one day, and then she pushed her luck even further when she attempted to kill the Commodore just yesterday... Luckily she'll be out of our hands soon.'

_Ah, a woman after me own heart..._ Jack mused after hearing the list of damages, but then promptly chocked on his own saliva when he heard himself think that.

'Something wrong Friar?' the guard inquired.

Jack cleared his throat hoping that this would also dislodge that disturbing thought from his mind. 'Ahem. No, nothing wrong Sir. Just a little frog in my throat.'

The guard nodded and led him down the corridor, along the stairs, and into the – all too familiar – dungeon where the prisoners were held captive. When they entered the dungeon, Jack looked around the little area and was quite impressed by the sheer amount of redcoats that were down here. _There weren't even this many guards when I was 'ere..._ he pondered. The man led him past the wall of empty prison cells... _There ain't anyone 'ere 'cept fer her!_ His eyebrows shot up with this thought. _Truly amazing how heavily she's guarded..._

'Is the woman pirate your only prisoner?' Jack inquired with genuine interest.

'She is for the moment. We arrested two sailors a few days ago, but they were brought to the Magistrate for questioning just moments ago.'

'Ah, I see. No hangings today then?'

'Oh no, the sailors won't be hanged, but the Dragon Lady surely will, Sir. First thing tomorrow, if I'm not mistaken.'

Jack cringed inwardly; he didn't have much time at all. _This had better work! I've just gotta get her out before sunrise tomorrow..._ His eyes widened when he realized his thoughts had betrayed him yet again. He only came here to look her up, pay her a visit, and rub in the fact that she'd gotten herself caught, didn't he? _No ye didn't Jack, ye came to get 'er out, even if th' truth won't get through that thick skull o' yers. She means something to ye and ye know it. Ye can't stop thinkin' 'bout 'er and now 'ere ye are longin' to hold her... Why are ye still fightin' it, Jack? Ye know it's th' bloody truth so deal wit' it._ He bit his lip again, something he noticed he was doing a lot lately. That voice was right... And one thing's for sure, Captain Jack Sparrow hated that this particular truth was revealed, even if it was to himself.

They stopped in front of a smaller enclosure and there she was, sprawled out on the floor with her face to the wall, humming to herself as she lazily twirled a strand of black curls around her finger. He caught another glimpse of the tattoo on her back while she faced away from him, and as she rolled over on her back, he got a glimpse of her profile. _Good God, she be beautiful, and even more so without th' braids.  
_  
The guard that had led Jack to the cell spoke just then, and Jack shook his head slightly to get his mind back into reality. 'There she is, Friar. Good luck to you. You're certainly going to need it. She has a sharp tongue and trust me she won't hesitate to use it.'

'Thank you, but I am sure I can manage,' Jack courteously nodded to the guard as his gaze fell on Devon once more. She seemed lost in thought, and she seemed to pay no attention to him or even anything else around her. She just kept on singing the same lines softly in her weathered voice:

_Your eyes send shivers down my spine_

_they're dark, but look like mine._

_It's like I see my soul's reflection in a mirror baby_

_I get confused by what I see_

_When I look at you,_

_I see the worst side of me_

She looked so innocent at this moment, the curls that fell around her face in a certain way and the voice that sounded distant, almost as if she were drifting somewhere that no one could reach her. Little did he know how right he was, Devon used her singing as a shield and a medium to sort out her feelings and arrange her thoughts. Music and singing acted as Devon's sanctuary. Whenever she lost her foothold on something or needed to clear her mind, she sang. At this moment, Devon had crept into her sanctuary again to block out the pain she felt, a last attempt to banish Jack Sparrow from her mind and to free herself from the images of him that constantly floated in her subconscious.

Jack had to concentrate hard on the words she sang because he could barely hear them, but he felt his heart jump in his throat when he was finally able to discern what they were...

Carved from the same wood, two of a kind

We we're raised on the wrong side of a one track mind

We can never be together

That's what I've come to see

'Cause I don't now whose worse.. you or me.

Looking at you, baby, I see the worst side of me.

_  
_  
He studied her face, swollen with big bruises and blue flecks, while her left eye was slightly swollen over, more than likely from an encounter with someone's fist. He watched intently as she ran her hand along her neck, right over the red scarf that hid the scar underneath, as she kept on singing. _She be rubbin' the scar I gave her... an' she be singin' 'bout me...  
_

_Every medal has two sides_

_But on ours the are no rights_

_I've tried not to tip the scale_

_But every time I try harder, I fail._

_The darker side always rules the light._

_It just doesn't make sense._

_How can two wrongs, feel so right?_

_It feels so goddamn right…_

All of a sudden Jack felt a mixture of nausea and bliss whirl through his body at the same time. Before he could waste time to determine which one of those feelings was stronger, he remembered the task at hand and had to keep to the role in which he had to play.

He scratched his neck, unintentionally mimicking Devon's earlier action, and spoke in his fancy accent, since the guard still stood nearby and he could not ruin his only chance to see Devon. 'Miss Duville, my name is Friar Brayden Gale and I've come in the name of the Church of England.'

Devon seemed to pull out of her trance, and she rose to her feet slowly, wincing with even the slightest movement, with the pain clearly showing on her face and in the piercing blue eyes that were looking up at him. Her trademark smirk began to form on her bruised face, curling her dry and cracked lips.

'Sorry, what did ye say yer name was?'

'Friar Brayden Gale.'

She chuckled when she heard the name a second time. Not long after her chuckle turned into a throaty laugh and she had to hold her sides in an attempt to hold herself still, to help soothe the pain her laughing has caused. However, the more she thought of the name of this Friar, the louder her laughter became.

'May I ask what it is you seem to find so funny, Duville?' one of the guards asked.

'This be a cleric of the Church of England, an' he goes by a name that means wanton,' she stated matter-of-factly, glancing towards the guard that was standing behind the Friar.

When she saw him looking sheepishly towards the Friar and back to her, she chuckled quietly and rolled her eyes. 'My God I can't believe how stupid ye Brits are sometimes! Wanton - amongst other things - means casual and unrestrained in sexual behavior... an' he be a Friar fer cryin' out loud! I'm sorry but to me that's just too bloody funny, mate!' No sooner had she finished her sentence than she burst out laughing again, both pleasure and pain showing on her face due to the bruises she retained, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement.

Jack tried very hard to contain his own laughter. Those moronic guards hadn't noticed his well-chosen name, but she did. She was a clever little minx indeed. Moreover, he felt very relieved now that he'd seen her laugh again. Not only because she was extremely beautiful when she laughed, but he was afraid that all of her time in a cell like this might've affected her. But no, not this little Hellcat. He marveled at how attractive she was when she laughed, but then even more so when she was angry.

'However amusing the situation may be to you Miss Duville, I am here to offer you a final chance for redemption before you meet your Maker.'

'Oh, I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter entirely,' she stated, her voice full of amusement. Jack smiled; how he loved her witty retorts. They were answers that could have very well come out of his mouth if he were in her position. He decided to take his questioning on to another level, anxiously awaiting another one of her clever answers.

'So in other words, there's no need to clean your conscience, milady?'

'No, but if I seem to give a damn, please inform me. I would hate to be giving the wrong impression.' She retorted cockily.

Sparrow stepped closer, once again very amused with the answers she dished out without hesitation. She was clever, witty and sarcastic and he was positively eating it up. A small grin formed on his face as he leaned onto the bars that separated him and Duville.

He turned his head towards the four men guarding the cells, and called to them, 'Gentlemen, would you mind if I had a moment alone with this fallen woman?'

The redcoats that guarded Devon glanced at each other, both happy to get the chance to leave her side, since they were going mad with nothing to do all day long, but they couldn't very well disobey direct orders to keep watch on her. Jack seemed to sense the thoughts and anxiety that ran through their minds and spoke up again, 'Honestly, I'm sure that I can handle her for a few moments gentlemen. She isn't armed and, after all, she is behind bars.'

This last bit seemed to persuade the guards and they relinquished to Jack's request. As they walked away, both Jack and Devon could barely suppress their grins.

Now they were alone. Jack leaned closer to the bars and dropped the fancy accent altogether as he hissed to Devon. 'Thought being down in this hellhole an' bein' beaten at yer own game – might I add – would 'ave softened ye up a bit, but NOOOO yer still as stubborn and devilish as th' same time ye were when we first met...'

_Damn, only one man I know talks that way..._ She leaned in closer and attempted to peer underneath the hood of the cloak. What she saw were two very familiar and sexy chocolate eyes that stared back at her...

'Sparrow?'

'CAPTAIN! It's CAPTAIN Sparrow and ye damn well know that, bitch.'

'And that would be Miss Bitch to ye, _Captain._ Me compliments to yer getup, Sparrow, ye look almost sacred in that,' she smirked. 'You also picked quite a suitable name fer yerself, Friar!' again her throaty laugh echoed through the Fort's dungeon.

'I wish I could return that compliment Duville... but you wouldn't look sacred if you dressed completely in white, grew wings and had a halo over yer head,' he smirked an couldn't help but to add, 'And don't ye be forgettin' that a halo has only to fall but a few inches to become a noose, ye evil wench.'

'No kidding! Though if that halo were to fall it would more than likely get caught on me horns anyway.' Devon smirked and with her wicked grin in place, she taunted Jack more, 'Oh ye wound me, Friar,' and she stepped closer, resting against the bars as well, their eyes locking.

'Why did ye come 'ere, Sparrow? Miss me that much?'

'Nay, simply wanted ta see the untamable, uncatchable Devon Duville be caged, tha' be all.'

'Ah, the mighty Captain Jack Sparrow came ta gloat! Well what a surprise... Havin' fun now are ye?'

'Did they hurt ye Duville?' he asked while he studied her dirty bruised face, his voice laced with more concern than he intended to have.

'Nay, I got bored and thought it would be great fun to whack meself unconscious. Then I woke up and soon became bored again so I decided ta beat the shit out of meself as well...' she replied dryly. 'What does it look like Capt'n obvious? An' what do ye care anyways?'

Jack completely ignored the fact that she asked him a question and proceeded to ask her questions once more, 'What happened Duville? And who did that ta ye?'

'None of yer damn business, Sparrow.'

'I'd watch that tongue lass. Unless ye'd rather stay o' course... Though stayin' 'ere an' gettin' acquainted with Port Royals gallows ain't my idea o' a good time.'

Devon suppressed the craving that welled up from deep inside of her body at his innuendo or when he mentioned her tongue and flatly answered, 'I've escaped Norrington b'fore, so there be no need for ye ta rescue me, Sparrow. I ain't some defenseless Mary-Sue ye know.'

'I might know that wench, but ye sure as Hell look defenseless ta me at the moment, seein' as yer locked up in that cell an' all. An' don't ye be forgettin' that I've escaped Norrington too. So how 'bout ye and I join forces after I get ye out, and seeing how he hates both o' us wit' a bloody passion, and we have fun making 'is life a livin' Hell?'

Devon put a finger on her cracked, swollen lips and pretended to think his proposition over...

'I would rather rot,' she quipped back in a manner of seconds.

Jack trembled from sheer anger. 'You stubborn, evil tart! I risk me neck fer ye an' what do I get in return!'

Devon looked at the cloaked man that was waving his hands in front of her more wildly than he ever had done before. 'Why did ye come 'ere Jack?' she said softly, holding on to the bars and looking deep into his eyes. She tried to read his thoughts, but his eyes refused to give away any of their secrets.

'I honestly ain't got a clue, wasted me time anyways...' he said dimly but anger still lingered in his voice.

'Answer the bloody question, Sparrow! Ye're not the kind that sets foot in the lion's lair without giving it a good thought beforehand – and given the fact that ye are impersonatin' a cleric of the Church of England and smell as though you're in charge of the monasteries brewery, me guess is that ye've given this charade a lot of thought... now tell me why!'

He walked away, not willing or wanting to answer her. Hell he _couldn't_ answer her, he didn't even know why he came himself. 'Hope ye 'ave a nice drop, luv. Ye certainly deserve it ye stupid obstinate wench!' he said harshly, hoping his words would have the desired effect on the Hellcat.

He wanted her to let him save her, maybe for once admit that she had a weakness and let him be her rescuer. He was attracted to her, much more than he had ever been to any other woman before. But he wouldn't admit that, he couldn't admit that... not even to himself.

As he sashayed off, he felt that strange sensation in the pit of his stomach again, the same feeling he had had since he first laid eyes on her. _God, she turns me on – even when she looked this way and gets me ragin' with anger at the same time. Why did she have to be so bloody stubborn?  
_  
Dee, on the other hand, realized – again – that Jack Sparrow acted in the exact same way she would have if he were in his boots. She couldn't deny the feelings deep inside of her any longer. She had crossed the line so many times that she didn't even know where it was anymore. Jack Sparrow had placed her exactly on the border, right between love and hate... She admired him because he showed no fear, he was witty, he was inventive and the way he looked at her was something else entirely. There was just something about him, and that allowed him to find his way into her heart. It was truly ironic how it was due to all of those things that she hated him too... Maybe he hadn't come to gloat, maybe he was sincere and really wanted to help her escape... and here she was just pushing him away – again.

'Friar! Get yer arse back 'ere!' she roared. _Oh god, I simply can't fight these damned feelings anymore... Ye're in pain Dee, not only mentally but physically as well. The scar that he gave ye is probly infected, not to mention that ye lost quite a bit o' strength from the beatin' of the guards and Gillette. _She felt dirty and unattractive but she wanted him... more than she would ever dare to reveal to anyone.

Jack stopped in his place when she called out to him, and glanced over his shoulder at her. After seeing her face, he turned around and walked back to her and her own private cage again.

'What's up, Duville? 'Ad a change o' heart?'

'Told ye I ain't got a heart, but get me outta here Sparrow. I hate ta admit this, but I'm really not up to beating the shit out of the wigged ones anymore and I'm bound to get hanged in less than one day, so let's make this count. Not only that but me mind's as blank as a babies bottom an' I can't think of one decent plan ta get meself out of his dungeon... also doesn't help me that there ain't any bloody rum around this dungeon.' _That's not entirely true Dee, yer mind ain't blank, it's just a little preoccupied lately...  
_  
'Well get yer ax an' beat me senseless, the Hellcat finally admits that she may just have a weakness!' he said his voice dripping with sarcasm. _And good Lord, she loves rum like I do! I knew I couldn't be the only one to use rum to get the brain ta work.  
_  
'Don't push me ye stupid blighter.'

'Evil wench!'

'Pathetic drunk!'

'Slut!'

'Manwhore!'

'Bitch!'

'Moron!'

'Mulish tart!'

'Idiot!'

'Putain!'

'Oh we're startin' French now, are we? Fine! Eunuque!'

'Vous savez pour un fait que je ne suis pas eunuque! Cela est au dessous de la ceinture, gigolette!'

'Below the belt, eh? Votre esprit est-il toujours dans la gouttière?'

'I sure as hell hope so, Nuisance!'

'Pest!'

When no other harassments came to mind, they both fell silent and stared at the other. Both ocean blue and dark brown eyes radiated fire.

Devon was the first to break the weary silence, 'God this turns me on... kiss me Friar.' And without any further delay, she pulled him towards her by the rope that was knotted around his waist.

Jack leaned in and kissed her through the bars, and pulled her as close to him as he could while he tried not to hurt her. Even though she winced as he pulled her closer by her arms, she didn't hold back, and neither did he.

Jack noticed the twitch her body made and promptly stopped. 'What's wrong?'

'Just a few bruises, no big deal... now, where were we?' she crashed her cracked lips onto his again, not caring about the pain it caused her as she explored the cave of his mouth. She ran her tongue along his teeth, playing and teasing with his delicious tongue.

His hands traveled from her arms down her back and stopped on her bum, where he immediately squeezed it. She grinned against his mouth and his hands slid inside the back of her breeches, his hands relishing the ability to investigate new territory. A sly grin formed on his lips as well, 'No knickers, luv?' Devon was now smirking with him. 'Somehow I don't think yer offended by that, Friar. Me guess is that yer even a tad out of place in yer order,' she said hoarsely as she felt his fingers slide between the cleavage of her bum. The sensation made her shiver. No man had ever given her such feelings before. She had encounters with many men, she would bed them and do things no mother would allow her daughter to do, and she had enjoyed every single moment that she spent in ecstasy thoroughly. However, Sparrow was unlike any other man she had ever been with. He knew exactly which buttons to push that would give her agonizing pleasure, and all this without her having to guide him or give him orders. Unfortunately, this meant he also knew which buttons to push to drive her up the wall, to get her raging with anger. And right now she was forced to bite her lip to contain a moan as he let his hands slide around her hips and down the front of her breeches.

'Ye bring out the worst in a man, Duville,' his voice becoming soft and husky, but smooth as velvet.

'All in a days work, preacher man,' and she crushed her lips onto his again, yearning to taste him again – to taste the slight remains of rum, to taste the man that drove her wild. She ran her hands through Sparrow's hair, grazing the back of his neck ever so slightly. She let her hands snake around to the front of his neck, and then slide down his chest. She shoved her hands inside his cloak, practically ripping the fabric. Devon relished the feel of his naked skin beneath her fingertips and allowed her fingers to trace a few of the scars on his chest. She touched his nipples, letting her nails scrape over the tender flesh.

Jack couldn't stop kissing her even if he wanted to. Her full lips were just too tempting and inviting even when they were cracked and sore. And he loved the way her tongue snaked around his; the sensation just drove him mad. He felt her hands barely touching his abdomen as they made their way lower towards his pulsating erection. Her tongue used more force against his as her hand wrapped around his own private mast, and he knew wanted more, he _needed _more, but this was neither the time nor the place.

'Stop it, Duville, I can barely contain meself if ye keep this up.'

She grinned wickedly, flashing her white teeth, and he caught something glistening on one of her teeth, or at least he thought it was. 'Who said ye needed ta contain yerself, Friar? Why not just live up to the name ye gave yerself here an' now, let it all out. Just whack it out an' show me the goods, that way I won't be disappointed later...'

He shoved her back, her hand still stuck underneath the band of his breeches.

'Need I tell you that no woman that I've ever encountered was disappointed after I was done wit' her?'

She put the index finger of her free hand on his lips, shushing him while she continued teasing him with her other. 'Well Sparrow, ye've never encountered a woman like me, have ye? I'm just makin' sure ye know what yer gettin' yerself into,' she flashed him that smile again and he saw the sparkle in her teeth once more. He couldn't have been imagining it if he saw it twice, right?

Oh but he knew what he was getting himself into all right. He wanted to get into her, and even though he knew that it was going to be more than he bargained for, possibly a very big mistake, he didn't care. He needed to spring her free, so he could ravish her or – rather – let HER ravish him. The vixen knew what she was doing; he had to give her that. _Wonder how many men she had... I've had a fair share o' women meself but... Hell, she must've... Ooooooooooooooooooooo she's good!  
_  
Devon had started moving her fingers along his erection and he forced himself to focus on their surroundings and his role instead of letting his desire take over. He was to be a Friar, a Friar who just happened to have the hardest boner known to mankind. This had to stop or he would be forced to take her right between the bars. His famous grin twisted around his mouth, because he somehow knew she'd be up for something like that.

He wanted nothing to take him away from this bliss, but the sound of heavy footsteps descending the stairs pulled him away from his perverted fantasy extremely quickly...

Devon backed away as soon as she heard the footsteps as well. She reclaimed her hand and pulled Jack's cloak over his erection in one swift movement, and then let herself fall back onto the hard floor. Jack opened the Bible with a flourish and began reading, even though his voice was still thick from arousal and his hands were slightly trembling. The guards glanced at them and Jack nodded. They nodded back and went up the stairs again. He breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God they had only come to check or there would've been hell to pay.

As soon as Devon heard the footsteps fade, she whispered to him, 'Jack? Toss me my effects, would ye?'

'Which ones are yers, then? ' he said glancing at the huge array of weapons that hung on the wall behind him.

'All of 'em ye blighter!' she retorted rolling her eyes. 'Oh, an' don't ferget the hat, luv.'

'Ye certainly carry a lot of stuff around, Duville.'

'So do you,' she said as she allowed her eye to wander below the cord around his waist, grinning mischievously.

He flashed her a golden smile and passed over her effects. Devon started with her belt – tucking her knives into it and sheathing her cutlass – while she retrieved her dagger and placed in back into her boot and put her throwing stars back in the inside of her vest. She then proceeded to reload her pistols, and Jack was amazed at the speed with which she did all of this. He kept throwing sidelong glances her way, noticing that she was in pain and could see quite a lot of bruises on her arms as well. After she was finished, she tucked her pistols in her belt. 'There, all _standing_, Sparrow,' she said giving him another pointed look. 'Now get me out.'

He remembered earlier how Will had gotten him out of this cell when he was locked up not so long ago, so he studied the hinges and was stunned to find that they were exactly the same as when he was on the inside trying to get out.

Now he just needed something to use as leverage.

'Have ye tried picking the lock, Duville?' he asked when he could think of nothing useful.

'Yeah I did... An' after I got out, I freshened meself up a bit and then decided to lock meself in again, since I 'ad nothin' better to do anyway!' she said sarcastically. 'With what would I have done that Jack? Me tongue?' she snapped.

'It sure as hell is sharp enough,' he hissed back at her.

'Stop blabberin' Sparrow... just get me out before the wigged ones return.'

Jack's gaze fell upon a bench in front of the far wall and his eyes lit up. He walked over to get it and she watched in amazement when he returned to the front of the cell and used that bench in the same way Will had done a few years back. Once the bars broke free, she held on to them to prevent them from hitting the ground. No need to alert the lobsters just yet.

She carefully leapt over the gate, as Jack held her hand to support her. He pulled her close to him as soon as she reached the other side of the gate that had held her captive. She looked in his eyes and for a brief moment, and soon they both forgot where they were and kissed each other passionately. This time there was different since not only were there feelings of lust in that kiss, but love seemed to be building a small foundation deep inside their assumed black hearts. Naturally, neither of the pirates was willing to acknowledge the truth of their relationship, but it was a start. Eventually it was Devon pulled herself away from the embrace.

Duville pinched Sparrow's behind and whispered, 'Je rembourserai mon gratitude plus tard, à sens unique ou l'autre.' She licked her lips suggestively and Jack felt as though he could burst any second. He pulled her back to him and kissed her as he had never kissed any other woman before.

Devon broke the kiss again, and regained her breath quickly since she knew that they didn't have much more time.

'We're not done 'ere, Sparrow. This is not the time for celebrating, yet. We've gotta find a way ta get out o' here first. Tell me, are ye armed underneath that cloak?'

He rolled his eyes at her sheer stupidity, 'Didn't you just feel that I was armed?' _She just had 'er hands all over me, she must have felt the weapons I'm carryin'. What did that tart think, that I just came with the Bible?  
_  
'I meant are ye carrying weapons, moron!' she hissed.

'Course I am, what kind o' a fool do ye take me for?'

Devon smirked even more devilishly, 'Ye're just begging for me ta harass ye an' ye don't even know it. Ye are a fool!' she said her voice dripping with sarcasm.

'No time to stay here an' 'ave a battle of wits, Duville. We've got ta get out now!' he said and irritation got the upper hand again, shoving his arousal aside.

Devon grinned when she saw his handsome face frowning. He was getting pissed with her again. Just like she had anticipated. She needed him angry again in order to get them out of here. She knew what he had been thinking about, hell she was sure that she was thinking of most, if not all, of those same indecent things. However, right now he needed a clear mind and the best way to achieve that was to rub him the wrong way. Devon loved seeing the anger in his eyes; she thought that he was even sexier when he was angry, so this type of torture proved to be fun for her as well. Devon knew that she herself possessed enough anger to fight for the both of them, but since she seemed to lack strength at the moment, he would have to do most of the fighting.

Once she saw his dark eyes gleam in a dangerous way, she knew she had accomplished her mission. He would put up one hell of a fight if needed, and she somehow guessed they would definitely need to put up such a fight to get out of this dungeon.

A sly grin formed on Devon's lips, 'Ye could 'ave just let me die and save yerself a lot of trouble... ye are aware of that, are ye not?'

He grinned. 'Ye wouldn't be that much fun dead, Duville. Asides, ye seem ta be forgetting that trouble is me middle name.'

'What a coincidence! That be mine as well,' she retorted with the sly grin still formed on her bruised face.

'Asides that, I'm pretty sure yer ghost would haunt an' torment me fer the rest of me life if I left ye,' Jack said matter-of-factly.

Duville's grin grew even wider as a strange combination of mirth and madness shown on her lips, 'Ye should know that I be pretty good at haunting men while alive also, Sparrow. Now lead on, oh wise one!'

**E/n: Now pretty please hit the little button down there are review! And you never know, perhaps the more reviews I can get for DuTchess, the quicker we can both get out new chapters ... A little added incentive for those that need it. ;)**


	16. The Pirate Duo Partners in Crime

**_Disclaimer: I do not own, I just borrow. I make no profit, do not bring me sorrow!_**

**_E/n: I know the pitchforks have been gotten out ... and I'm sorry for leaving you all for so long without the newest chapter, but I've been insanely busy. I'm also going to be on vacation from the 19th to the 30th, but I'll try to get as many chapters done for DuTchess as I can before that time. (smooches)_**

**_Anyway, I wanted to remind you that I always attempt to throw quotes into every chapter, so take a wild guess at them ... I keep to my word and always give out a prize if someone's correct, so guess away! This chapter I've got quotes from Ever After. Hope you like the new chapter and I promise I'll work hard for you all before I go. ;)_**

**_Author's Note: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I am currently writing new chapters and doing a fine job at that. Linnie and me will do our utmost to keep bringing you updates. Good updates. I am a perfectionist but Linnie is even worse. That explaines why it takes so long sometimes. Well now, without further ado, we bring you what you've all been waiting for so long!_**

**_Chapter 16_**

**_The Pirate Duo - Partners in Crime_**

As the two pirates slowly climbed the stairs out of the dungeon, Devon couldn't help but rake her eyes up and down Jack's body from behind. _God even from behind an' b'neath all tha' fabric he's gorgeous._ As he climbed the stairs in front of her, in order to keep her out of sight, her eyes travelled southwards only to stop on his bum. She couldn't suppress the small, twisted smile that formed on her cracked lips as she lifted the heavy brown fabric ever so slightly to reveal Jack's backside... _Now that's what I call some fine piece of ass. _

Jack smirked knowingly, glanced over his shoulder and whispered, 'Now's not th' time ta adore me body, luv!'

Devon grumbled inwardly. _What is he a bloody mind reader or something?_

'Don't flatter yerself, Sparrow. There ain't nothin' to see! But from what I _can_ see I can tell ye that I've seen better.' _Now that's a big fat lie and ye know it Dee! _'Besides, I was merely goin' ta suggest tha' ye loose th' cloak, Friar,' she all but purred back.

'Can't wait ta get me naked, can ye Duville?'

'Only tryin' to give ye some advice, holy man. I can't fathom you bein' able to fight off the wiggies wearing such a garment, that be all. Not ta mention th' fact that it faintly resembles a dress, an' comin' from experience an' all, I think I must just know how difficult it is ta move in one of them things.'

Jack cursed inwardly because he knew she was right. Therefore he shrugged, then quickly stripped and discarded the cloak carelessly behind him. Devon stood behind him and caught it just before it landed on the cobblestones by her feet.

'Watch it Sparrow! This could come in handy ye know...' she said poking him in his back with her index finger.

He just mumbled something in return, and even though Devon couldn't make out the words, she was certain he wasn't thanking her for her advice or telling her how beautiful she looked. _Like he'd ever do that.... Bloody Hell! Where did that come from?!_

Jack crept slowly and stealthily up the stairs in front of Devon, his back pressed against the wall as he moved with his pistol drawn and ready in front of him. Devon followed him closely, the cloak still slung over her arm, while her pistols were in her belt, patiently biding their time until Devon would need them.

When Jack neared the top of the stairs, he spied five wigged men talking amongst themselves. His eyes fell one on in particular... there seemed to be something familiar about him. _Ah... It be tha' bloody bastard Gillette. 'E was at me hangin' an' twas th' one tha' tried t' get Norrington to chase after me ship._ They seemed to be discussing their captive, Devon. At that moment the Hellcat nudged his side and tried to peer past him and get a glimpse of the hallway. He shoved her back and gestured for her to stay put. Naturally, she didn't listen and peeked over his shoulder anyway, though she was balanced precariously on her tiptoes and was forced to hang onto his shoulders so she wouldn't fall. He smirked.

Jack tried to block the fact that the Hellcat was hanging on him at this very moment while he listened closely to what the men said. Gillette began talking again and Jack honed the dialogue between the wigs, '...has quite a sick mind, really perverted, and she's got tongue enough for two sets of teeth. Let me just tell you that her tongue is sharper than even that sword she had with her, but she's beautiful in spite of everything. If she wasn't a pirate about to be hanged and circumstances were different, who knows..... Not to mention that I know for a fact that she happens to fancy me...' Gillette grinned as he gloated to the other men around him, and Jack couldn't help but grin and scoff at their stupidity. _If th' Hellcat was attracted t' th' likes o' tha' sad excuse for a man, then I be th' King of bloody England!_ While he was preoccupied with the conversation between Gillette and his cronies, he was caught off-guard when he heard a chuckle from behind him. 'Tha' man be th' most pathetic loser I've ever seen in me life!' she whispered. ''Cept for you that is,' she quipped, then punctuated the statement nicely when she pinched his bum. 'Though I must say... 'is description of me is quite good,' she said with a grin.

He turned around to shoot her an angry look, but the welled anger died instantly when he saw the devilish mischief sparkling in her eyes, and he simply gave her a broad smirk. Devon returned his smirk, and for a few moments they just stood there grinning like two Cheshire cats – one with a golden smile, while the other sparkled.

Jack saw the sparkle in her smile once more and just had to take a closer look to see where it came from. When he examined her smile, he suddenly saw where that sparkle originated. It appeared that Devon had one small diamond embedded in the ivory of her teeth. _Now that's interestin'. Very interestin' indeed..._ 'So lass, it 'pears tha' not only do we share th' love fer a weird hairstyle, but we share a tooth fetish as well? Never noticed tha' darling diamond before, Duville... but 's very nice,' he said with genuine interest.

'Well, ye never really gave me a reason ta dazzle ye with me smile, now did ye?' she said as she flashed him another grin. ''Nough with the chit-chat ... ye ready now Sparrow? There's only five of 'em, we can take 'em together!'

'Ready when you are.'

Their conversation ended just as Gillette began to speak again, so naturally their ears perked up to listen in. 'She's going to hang tomorrow, there's no doubt about that. It really is an awful way to die for a woman. Even for a pirate like her. After all, she's still a beauty on the outside, even if there's a demon on the inside...'

With that statement, Duville boldly stepped past Sparrow, and flashed her most invincible smile while she ignored the pain that coursed through her body from her many bruises. She swiftly drew both of her pistols and aimed one of the barrels directly in Gillette's face as she deftly unlocked the safety simultaneously. He swallowed hard, while the sheer disbelief of the situation shown in his eyes.

'Gillette, me old friend... Seems that ye can describe me oh-so-well, son, but this split personality's got other plans. I'm 'fraid ye won't see me swinging from th' end of a rope t'morrow.'

Gillette was aghast and nearly screamed himself hoarse at Devon. 'You! You cannot be out!! How could this have happened?!?!' He looked murderously towards his fellow wigs, the very ones who had left her alone with the Friar in the first place. He seemed to be waiting on an answer that no one would give him. They had failed spectacularly at their one simple task, and no one wanted to admit that. Since he was getting no help from his fellow wigs, he turned back to Devon, 'And just what did you do to Friar Gale?!'

Devon grinned wickedly, 'Well son, let's just say that I did things to him that his order and Employer would most definitely consider sins.' She winked at Gillette just as one of the guards reached for his rifle and in a split-second Devon had aimed the barrel of her other gun at him. 'I wouldn't do that if I were you, sonny ... Ye see, I can fire both guns in th' blink of an eye an' I bet tha' I wouldn't miss either one o' ye,' she stated smugly.

Gillette narrowed his eyes, 'How is it that you were able to get out, Duville?'

'Let's just say I 'ad a little help from above...' she said cryptically as she winked in Jack's direction. It was only then that the officers noticed the male figure that stood behind Duville. At seeing their surprised expressions, Devon sighed and rolled her eyes. _An' these be the pride of the King's Navy... Guess they were too busy lookin' at lil ol' me to notice Sparrow standin' right b'hind me. Can't say I blame 'em tho... _Once the initial shock wore off, one of the guards pointed in his direction and exclaimed, 'It's the Friar!' Gillette was lost in thought at first about Duville's impossible escape, but once he heard his fellow officer's call and saw the figure that Devon indicated, it didn't take him long to recognize the figure. It was the familiar profile and frame of an old rival, 'Jack Sparrow!'

'CAPTAIN! That's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow to ye! Why must I remind ev'ry bloody person 'bout that! I did _earn_ that title, ye know,' Jack hissed. Even though Jack was pleased he was so quickly recognized – _Bodes well for me reputation after all – _although he still got very irritated when people forgot his title, something that seemed to be a habit for the wigs. _Oh well, bad publicity is still publicity I s'pose._

Gillette's gaze turned to the female pirate again. 'I should have known that you would have a lover – and who else better then him? You both tend to conduct yourselves in the same manner,' he sneered at the pirate pair. 'And after all, who else would put up with your foul language and wicked behaviour on a regular basis?'

Devon couldn't help but grin at the sheer idiocy of the man. 'Ah, I understand now! It be yer wigs tha' must've sucked all th' intelligence out o' yer heads – of course that's implyin' that there was any in there to begin with,' the pirates both grinned while the wigs either glared or looked confused. Naturally, Dee just had to laugh at the wigs that got confused at even her simple statement. _Oh tha' be th' best thing I've seen in a long time! They just proved me point without even knowin' it!_ She chuckled a bit and smirked before she continued._ '_He ain't me lover, nor am I his. In fact, I dunno what th' fuck we are to each other, but th' term lovers certainly don't apply here. Tho we do tend ta rub each other th' wrong way constantly an' all so tha' hurts th' chances of us ever becomin' more ta one another, but oh well!'

Gillette looked at her with confusion etched on his face. 'Yes, because that makes perfect sense. He got you out because he detests you. Right....'

'Sarcasm don't suit ye, Gilesy boy,' Devon said matter-of-factly.

Jack decided to butt in and turned to Devon, 'I really must disagree with ye there, luv'

'How's that? Ye tellin' me that ye find 'is sarcasm appealing?'

'Nah, tha' wasn't what I meant luv. I meant tha' ye _do_ want me,' he stated wryly.

'So you _are_ lovers then!' Gillette exclaimed in a triumphant tone.

Jack retorted almost immediately, 'Didn't say tha', just wanted to point out tha' th' vixen 'ere – who means _nothin'_ ta me, might I add – happens ta want me. But who could blame her fer that? After all, I _am_ Captain Jack Spar...'

Devon rolled her eyes 'Oh, stop inflatin' yer ego! 'S large 'nough already, ye high an' mighty Admiral of the Amber Seas.'

Jack muttered something under his breath, his hands flitting across the hilt of his sword. She was pushing him again, mocking him in the worst way possible. He found himself contemplating the many ways in which he could end her life in his mind.

He snapped back to reality when he heard a familiar haughty voice address him.

'Then why save her if she means nothing?' Gillette asked with genuine interest ignoring Devon's dig at Sparrow.

'She just 'appens ta owe me somethin', an' I can't very well get tha' from 'er when she's danglin' from th' end of a rope, now can I? B'sides that, I never could say no ta a woman tha' drools over me masculine presence....'

Devon had steam coming out of her ears at this point. It didn't matter that he was right on the money about how she wanted him... that didn't give him the right to shout it out loud! _How is it tha' he can be so bloody sure of himself all th' time? _Devon scowled. 'I don't want ye, ye stupid blighter! Tis YE want ME, jus' like ev'ry other man does... only ye just hate ta admit tha' now can ye?!'

'Oh yer so full of it! Stupid wench!'

'_I _am full of it?! So tha' means ye must be all modest an' humble in comparison? Don't make me laugh Sparrow! Yer ego can barely fit thru th' damned door, let alone in tha' big giant head o' yers! Ye have ta tie tha' bandana 'round yer head ta keep yer ego in check ... not tha' I've ever seen tha' work yet. No, wait! I've got it! It must be there ta prevent yer ego from fallin' out yer head like yer brain must 'ave done years ago!'

'Ye mean like how yer breast could fall out o' tha' little vest any second? Tart?!'

'If ye 'ave 'em flaunt 'em, that's my motto. An' I never understood why it's considered proper ta show the upper side of yer breast, but not th' cleavage. Me ladies need breathin' room, ye gnome!'

'Draggle tail!'

'Mopus!'

'Old maid!'

'Old?' Devon blinked and stared blankly at ahead of her at Sparrow's face. It didn't take her more than a second to regain her backbone though. 'YOU OF ALL PEOPLE CALLS ME OLD?!' she snapped back.

'Jus' statin' the truth bitch.'

'Told ye that would be Miss Bitch to the likes of ye!' she shouted, followed by another soft 'Old?'

'Yes Duville, ye be a stubborn OLD whore!'

'That be th' second time ye call me a whore, ye egotistical wanker! And now to top tha' ye _dare_ ta call me OLD as well?'

'How very perceptive of ye luv. An' let me promise tha' it won't be th' last time,' he stated boldly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

'Then welcome to yer funeral, _Captain_ Sparrow!' and with that she turned one the guns she held at the redcoats in his direction and instantaneously pulled her trigger, the bullet missed him by mere inches. Jack felt his heart pound in his throat as he flew backwards. He realized he had gotten her angry just as he had intended, but perhaps he'd gone a little too far and made her just a tad too angry. He hadn't foreseen that she'd pull the trigger on him. He also knew that if she had really wanted to hit him, he would have been dead by now. She missed him on purpose, just like she did in Tortuga when she threw her dagger at him. _I should really watch me steps now... she's quite lethal!_

The guards that were stuck in the middle of all this commotion looked back and forth from fuming male pirate to livid female pirate with faces that ranged from extremely interested and entertained to confused beyond belief. Gillette just stared at the pair with an open mouth. He had just started to believe that all pirates were allies, but the scene that took place in front of him at the moment proved otherwise. This was no lovers quarrel; these two were going to kill each other! Jack caught a glimpse of the flabbergasted redcoats in the corner of his eye as he harassed Devon a little more. She was on the verge of insanity, she positively trembled from welled up anger at the moment. But on second thought, anger might've been an understatement – it seemed to be more like blood thirst. Either way, Jack loved to tease her like this, especially when he had the upper-hand in controlling her temper. With one more glance towards the redcoats, Jack realized that the confusion their banter had caused could be used to their advantage.

He processed his thoughts with lightening speed and quickly threw Devon the other end of the rope he had tied around his waist, hoping she would understand and follow his lead. Devon caught the rope as he threw it and recognized why Jack had created a massive argument from their conversation. She had to give him credit for that because even she hadn't thought of that as a possible diversion. She shook her head slightly in an attempt to get her mind back in the moment. She looked at the cloak in her arms and threw it over the nest of Brits. _Maybe he ain't so much of an idiot after all..._ she mused as she risked a quick glance at Sparrow so they could signal each other for their next move.

All that was needed was that one look and it seemed as though they had the entire escape choreographed. Together they took off towards each other and circled the men, quickly tying them up around their legs. The redcoats stumbled, faltered and finally fell down. Duville and Sparrow glanced at each other, the two of them grinning as though they were possessed. Jack disarmed the men rapidly while Devon held them at gunpoint.

She couldn't help but realise that she and Sparrow were quite the team. Dee glanced around her to make sure they remained unseen and unheard by any others in the fort. But of course the lobsters began to make noises underneath the holy cloak. _Bloody Hell! If they don't shut up we'll be found out! _Much to her amusement, she realized the noises were those that only very scared women should make. _How very manly_, she was beginning to wonder if those wigged men were even straight. _Come ta think o' it Dee, it wouldn't be all tha' surprisin' if they were all queer. An' if the way they be actin' be any indication... I'd have ta say tha' they're fags. _Devon shoved that thought aside as she quickly surveyed their surroundings again. _Damn, more red-ladies incoming!! _

'Captain Sparrow, I think it's about time we said goodbye to these lovely ladies, don't you?' Devon said in her near-perfect British accent, forgetting all of her anger towards him.

Jack's gaze met hers and for a moment time stood still again. He was truly amazed by her. Never before had he seen a woman shift from a blazing fire into tranquil water in the blink of an eye. A few moments ago she was ready to sever his head from his body with her bare hands, and now she just stood there cool as a cucumber merely reminding him to hurry up a bit and mocking the men that had previously held her captive. _Wonder how she got caught in the first place..._

Devon looked at Jack while he tied the soldiers up carefully, as she felt the time flying by and the rest of the red-ladies getting closer and closer. She tapped her foot on the ground impatiently. 'Jack?! I really think we should get goin'. Now ye know tha' I'm quite fond o' th' colour red, but there's a little bit too much of it comin' our way at th' moment for me likin'.'

Jack glanced over his shoulder to take a look at the redcoats the Hellcat mentioned, and his eyes widened oh-so-slightly at the sea of red moving rather quickly in their direction. He walked up to Duville and addressed the captured men that were on the ground, which now resembled a moving heap of arms and legs, along with sea of redcoats approaching him and Duville in one loud voice, 'Gentlemen, today is the day you will always remember as the day you ALMOST caught Captain Jack Sparrow –'

'– _and_ Devon Duville. Ye can catch me lads, but ye'll ne'er be able ta keep me down.'

Jack grabbed her wrist and dragged her away before she could add any more to her little tirade. _Save th' need ta teach 'er th' benefits o' a 'short an' sweet' speech fer later Jack... now, ye run!_

They fled from the scene, running as fast their sea-legs could carry them. During their flight, they heard the foreboding sound of shots being fired in rapid succession in the distance, as well as feeling some of said shots whizzing past their ears. Devon whipped around immediately and began to fire back at the redcoats while she ran backwards, somehow managing to keep up with Jack at the same time. When an unmistakable thud was heard, Jack glanced over at Devon, eyebrows raised and said, 'Quite amazin' 'ow good o' a shot ye are Duville.'

'Told ye I was the best in the Caribbean,' she boasted and quickly fired another shot and they heard another thud. In their brief pause, a few bullets sizzled along Jack's head and he immediately retaliated, he got out his guns as well as fired back. And they did all of this while they ran from the fort and the sea of redcoats that followed. When they passed an alley, Jack pulled her in. They continued to run and avoid the redcoats until a small niche appeared on their right, they dove in to hide there for moment, and after a short while the sound of gunshots and footsteps faded. The only sound they heard now was the alarm bell in the distance, which rang to alert the redcoats of their presence. The two peered out of their alcove to check the surroundings. 'Ye know I should really steal tha' bloody bell next time I visit!' Jack mumbled.

In an instant Devon was unceremoniously shoved back into the alcove by Jack and instantly placed his lips over hers as he pinned her to the wall. Both of them were already breathing heavily from running so fast to escape, so they had to part to be able to catch their breath. Jack pressed his body close to hers, her chest heaving as Devon found herself drowning in his brown eyes. One look from him and she literally lost control, he seemed to take her to a higher level merely with a look. She still held her pistols when she parted her lips and gave him a warm welcome. Again they shared a mind-blowing kiss until Jack broke away and purred, 'Wanted to do that ever since ye called me a wanker luv.'

'Ye deserved ta be called tha'! Ye should be happy ye got off with so little, Sparrow. Remind me ta give ye th' rest when we find th' time...' her lips proclaimed his for a brief moment again, before she broke away and with her eyes still closed, swiftly reloaded her weapons. Jack watched her hands in amazement and fascination. S_he must 'ave done tha' countless times, otherwise she'd need th' use of 'er eyes fer sure. Damn, this Hellcat is quite th' talented one._

'What is it tha' ye do 'board th' Hazard, Duville?'

'Master gunner an' second mate,' she said proudly as she tucked her pistols back in her belt.

'Ah, well ye must be damn good at tha', seein' how well ye handle those guns ye carry.'

'I'm good at a whole lot o' other things as well Sparrow...' she said with twinkling eyes.

'Bet ye are tart.'

'Where do ye suggest we go ta now? I'm pretty sure th' redcoats are going to follow us and I assume Drake already sailed off to a safe haven.'

'Isaac would leave ye behind?'

'We stick ta th' code Jack, no matter what.'

'Yer not together wit' him then? Yer his type an' I figured ye'd share beds aboard yer ship...'

'I'm his type?' Devon laughed her throaty laugh again. 'I'm not so sure 'bout that, Sparrow, I tend ta rub him the wrong way too often fer him ta be interested in th' likes o' me. We're good friends, but no more than tha'.'

'If ye say so...' he said emotionless. 'So ye think he sailed off?'

'I don't think tha', I_ know_ he did. He's a smart man, Sparrow. He wouldn't put his crew or ship at risk over me. Besides he knows I can hold my own.'

''Course ye can, that's why ye got out all by yer onesies, right?'

'I would have eventually, don't flatter yerself.'

'Ye would have hung, Duville!'

'I know. It's just tha' I lost me bloody dog an' when I started ta look for him, they caught me off guard. I'd managed to kill two of 'em at an earlier point tha' day, but that was when Bullet was still with me,' she sighed as she suddenly realized how much she missed her four legged friend.

'I know where yer dog be, Duville. He be perfectly safe.'

Devon seemed to pipe up after Jack said that, 'Really? Then where is he??'

'If ye can follow orders o' 'nother Captain other than Drake, and yer willin' to follow me, I'll show ye.'

'Agreed. Let's see if ye can even captain yer ship when ye have me 'round tho,' she winked and stuck her hand out for him to shake.

'In that case yer comin' with me Duville. Can't very well leave ye here, 'sides th' fact tha' ye still owe me a reward fer comin' to yer rescue.' His eyes gleamed as he spoke the words.

Devon smiled, she didn't feel like giving him a hard time now that he was acting all noble, but she did need one question to be answered. 'Ye never did tell me what it is I owe ye, Jack.'

'What do ye mean, lass?'

'Ye told Gillette I owed you somethin' and I couldn't return it to ye if I were hanged...'

'Ye don't remember?'

Devon searched around in her head, trying to remember anything from the past few weeks that Jack could be referring to. 'No, I don't'

'Twas back in Tortuga. We were on th' verge of havin' some fun, when you decided ta play games with me.'

'I remember tha' Sparrow, but I can't recall what it is I owe ye.'

Jack snorted and rolled his eyes, 'Ye really can be stupid sometimes, lass.'

Realisation hit her in an instant and a wicked grin formed on her lips

'Mmmmm... seems I'm in debt, now doesn't it?'

Jack grinned devilishly, his eyes twinkled with mischief 'Oh, ye are, Duville. In serious debt indeed...'

Devon smiled sardonically, 'In tha' case I might as well inform ye I take th' side o' th' bed ye sleep on.'

Jack smirked; part of him had hoped she would've been able to read between the lines, but he didn't expect her to read his bloody mind.

'Who said ye could sleep with me?'

'I did. An' who said anythin' 'bout sleepin'? As far as I can tell, ye want me ta give ye one wild night!' Devon's eyes sparkled again and her voice seemed to loose its sarcastic quality.

Jack rolled his eyes in amusement and was about to snap a witty retort back, but he heard footsteps again and his mind turned on escape once more. He shoved her in front of him. 'Run, Duville! We've got company.' Jack turned to shoot at their attackers, but he missed by mere millimetres. Devon pulled her trigger with great speed and proficiency, and sufficiently crippled the first redcoat that dared to charge them before he ever got the chance to take a shot at them.

Devon turned around and ran for all she was worth even though she had no clue where she was headed. As she ran, she thanked God on her bare knees she hadn't worn the dress Drake got her. If she had worn it, she would've been dead by now.

'Take a left here, Duville!' came Sparrow's voice from behind her.

Devon made the sharp turn and found herself in the alley where one could find the Blacksmith's shop. The very one she visited before hell froze over.

Without bothering to ask Sparrow how they managed to get here, Devon pushed the door open and ran inside. Jack followed quickly and he secured the wooden door once they were both inside.

* * *

Drake couldn't escape the dread and guilt that twisted his stomach into knots. _I should have gone back for her, she didn't come back, and that means that she was more than likely caught!_ If anything else had happened she would have returned, even if she did have some fun with Edwards she would've ditched him after she had her way with him. _Damn it! Why does she have to be so proud? Why didn't I make anyone go with her? _She had to have had an encounter with the redcoats. It was just like what happened in Nassau – only that time she had gotten caught because she had saved a girl from her attackers. The guards that had her arrested, assumed she had hurt the girl and injured the men. Their conclusions naturally came from the fact that Devon was a pirate, and that was all they needed. _The Brits have always assumed that all pirates are evil. Bloody stupid redcoats they are! Don't even stop to look at the evidence first..._ The girl even testified in Devon's favour, but that didn't help. Norrington had already decided that she would hang, in spite of the fact that she had indeed rescued the girl. That time she managed to bluff her way out of the noose ... he figured she could do it again.

Isaac Drake was a captain known for his loyalty towards his crew and ship and for his unwavering loyalty to the pirate's code. He had never broken it once in his career. Drake thought of the code as a law. He didn't see it as guidelines like other pirates did, he was taught to respect and honour the code as the town-folk would honour their laws and he wouldn't break it for Duville, no matter how guilty that made him feel.

They had to get out of Port Royal, and quickly. If they stayed here to wait for Duville, he would jeopardise his ship and the rest of his crew. As he had barked his orders he held the spyglass to his eyes to search for any possible Navy attackers. He saw something ... but it was no Navy Ship, nor navy officers. The outline of the ship he saw was the majestic Black Pearl, sufficiently hidden in a dark cove on the other side of the ridge. Drake sighed in relief. If Devon escaped after they left, she could get a passage back to the Hazard's berth by his old friend Jack Sparrow. With the guilt over Duville taken care of, Drake let his mind wander a bit, and found himself wondering what business Sparrow had in Port Royal. _Maybe he's heard about the_ _lost Inca Treasure as well..._ But he didn't dwell on that for long. The important thing was that both him and Duville were there, and if Devon needed help he knew Jack would provide her that. They might end up killing each other in the process, but he would help her, even if she didn't ask for it. Drake knew Devon would never admit she needed help. She was too mulish and proud to admit her weaknesses to anyone. She had gained many scars and wounds in battle, but he had never seen her wince when opponents were still present. She was a strong woman. A strong, pigheaded woman and he knew that she'd survive somehow. Devon wasn't one that could control her temper very well and he knew Jack Sparrow was not a very patient man either. A sly grin formed on his lips, as he thought of their next inevitable meeting. He wagered the next time they met there would be sparks between the two, and knew not all of those would be from clashing swords......

* * *

'The Smithy?? Bullet returned to the smithy?" Devon asked, still breathing heavily from their exertion.

'Aye lass,' Jack retorted as he leaned back onto the door he had barricaded earlier.

'How did you find him then?'

'This 'ere shop, belongs ta one o' me best friends, a eunuch, lovely singin' voice - maybe ye could sing a duet wit' 'im sometime -, but he's a good man all in all.'

'Ye know th' Bootstrap boy?' Devon asked with narrowed eyes.

Will stepped out from behind a rack of swords, 'That he does ... and for quite a few years, Miss Duville.'

Jack grinned at her and nudged her shoulder with his, making Devon wince from pain at even the light collision, 'Small world eh, luv?'


	17. Of Secret Doorways and Surprising Circum...

_

* * *

Disclaimer: Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality. Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see, I'm just a poor gel, I need no sympathy. Because I'm easy come, easy go. Little high, little low. Any way the wind blows, Doesn't really matter to me, To me. _

_Too late, my time has come, send shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time. goodbye everybody. I've got to post, gotta leave you all behind and face the truth: I don't own anything, I am just borrowing. And I make no profit what so ever, but that doesn't really matter.... Tooooo meeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!_

**E/n: Now you all had better be happy that I was able to finish this chapter so quick. ;) No pitchforks needed this time ... although you might need them while I'm away. I won't be able to edit much while I'm on vacation, but I'll try. I won't have my computer with me and I'll be traveling quite a bit, so it might be difficult ... but I'll give it my best shot. **

**At the very last moment I thought of a good quote for this chapter, and I hope it's a good one and you lot like it. ;) Do I even need to mention that it's from Ever After? Nah, didn't think so. Have fun and I hope you enjoy it!**

**_A/N: Even though I've had a poor number of reviews on the last chapter (sobs and breaks into tears) I still like to think some of you, loyal readers and former (sobs) reviewers are still reading and perhaps even enjoying this story. So the optimist in me says: post the darn chapter, especially since my darling Linthilde edited this chapter at lighting speed. So I hereby bring you chapter 17. If you still want it that is (snickers)_**

Chapter 17

**Of Secret Doorways and Surprising Circumstances**

Will studied the bruised face of the cocky female pirate that stood in front of him. 'You know, you should really have someone take care of that, or at least take a look at it. Would you like me to get Elisabeth?'

Devon waved her hand dismissively and shook her head resolutely, 'No, there's no need for tha' lad. Just a few bruises... tha' be all. Sure they'll take away some o' me extraordinary beauty, but I think I'll live. I've been hurt worse b'fore Mr. Turner. I know how ta take care o' it.' Will wasn't convinced she was truly alright, so he continued to examine her bruises. Devon saw that he was a stubborn one and tried to reassure him again. 'Really I'll be fine, the swellin's gone down already an' in a few days time these gorgeous colours will have faded as well. There really is no need fer yer concern, but thanks anyways.'

Jack shook his head lightly in amazement as Will looked at her curiously, still not believing she was 'fine' like she tried to imply. Devon used the silence and looked around the forge. She found that her eyes were once again drawn to all the silver that glowed and shimmered in the light of the fireplace. She admired the beautiful swords that filled the racks for quite a while. She didn't even bother to prevent the greedy glint from forming in her eyes, it was no use anyhow.

As Will studied her face, he saw the look in her eyes and followed her gaze. 'Still want to buy one of my swords, Miss Duville?'

'Aye lad. Very much so,' she stated. 'But unfortunately it seems that I am all out of money at the moment. I had me a nice heavy money pouch when I was 'ere th' other day, but th' Iron fist o' th' law took it from me...' she sighed. 'Ah well, you know what they say – easy come, easy go...'

Wills eyes widened while she rambled on about the heavy money pouch, 'You STOLE that?'

Devon smiled and simply shrugged her shoulders, 'Pirate!'

Jack leaned on a wooden pillar and decided to butt in on their conversation while he looked to Devon, 'I prefer ta call it 'borrowing without permission'...' and a glorious grin formed on his face.

Devon grinned back at him, 'That be a nice way ta put it, I should remember tha' fer next time,' she said with a wink.

Jack turned back to Will, 'While we're on th' subject, guess who she stole tha' loaded money pouch from?'

'I don't think I want to know...' Will retorted and turned his back on the pair.

'Oh, but I really think ye do, mate,' Jack persisted.

Will sighed and conceded, 'Very well then. Since it seems you're so insistent on telling me, who did she steal it from Jack?'

'Yer father-in-law,' Jack stated, grinning triumphantly at a thoroughly confused Devon.

'That stuck up wig is yer father-in-law?' she questioned in disbelief. She had posed the question rhetorically, since she had a feeling the answer was going to be 'yes.'

Jack polished his bejewelled fingers on his sleeve and grinned as he continued to embarrass the Hellcat. 'Not only his father-in-law but also th' Governor o' Port Royal, stupid tart.'

Devon's face lost all expression as she stared blankly from Will to Jack. _Damn it to the Blazes, just my bloody luck! What a way to make new friends, eh Dee?_

Once Will was finally able to speak, he shot Devon a rather angry glare. 'So now you're just going to steal one of my swords since you can't buy it with the 'borrowed' money that was taken away from you by the Navy officers, is that it?'

Devon raised her hands at her defence, holding her palms in Will's direction as a sign of peace, 'Oh no! I would never steal from people who were nice ta me.'

Jack looked at her with sarcasm written all over his face, 'How positively noble of ye dear!'

'At least I've got some manners, Sparrow.'

'Yeah, well tha' be up fer debate Duville. If that's what ye refer ta as stealing from me best friend's in-laws, then tha' be showing some wonderful manners alright.'

'How was I s'post ta know tha' was 'is father-in-law? It's not as if I go 'round an' introduce meself... gettin' acquainted wit' th' people I rob,' she fumed. 'Good day kind Sir, I be Devon Duville an' I am here ta steal yer money. Care ta tell me yer name b'fore I take what's yours an' make it mine so tha' I can make sure ye ain't related ta someone I know? Oh I can just see tha' now....'

Will rolled his eyes at the two hopeless pirates and decided to end their banter before it got any worse, 'So Jack, I take it the disguise worked since you brought her back unscathed, well for the moment anyway.'

'O' course it worked! After all, I am Captain Jack Spar-'

Will rolled his eyes in exasperation, 'Yes I know! We _all _know!!'

Devon took the time to look around her once Will had the sense to interject into the conversation between her and Jack, and as it happened he was now the one in an argument with Jack. She chuckled inwardly at the irony while she searched the room further, though it was not the swords she looked for this time, but something she loved even more, if that was even possible.

'Jack?'

'What's it now, ye nuisance?'

'Ye said Bullet was 'ere. Well, where is 'e?'

Will looked over to her and spoke up once again, 'Lizzy is taking care of him as we speak. Or rather, she abducted him. She hasn't left its side since Jack left to fetch you.'

Devon grinned. 'So she's in love wit' th' little hairball too eh? Saw tha' instantly. So can I ask if ye'll take me ta th' mutt tha' almost got me killed?'

Will nodded and led her down a corridor and into his living room, where they found Elisabeth on the floor with Bullet. When the dog heard the familiar footsteps of Dee, it wagged its little tail and ran to her. Devon dropped to her knees to embrace her dog and Bullet instantly started to lick her face. 'There ye are ye stupid lil' fool...' she cooed to Bullet, completely oblivious to Will, Elisabeth and Jack who were all in the room. 'Ye 'ave a lousy sense o' timin' when it comes ta playin' games, ye know. Ye almost got mommy hung – ye know tha' darlin'?'

Suddenly Devon remembered that Sparrow was right behind her, and she cursed herself for her reaction and for the baby-talk to Bullet that he had just witnessed. She glanced over her shoulder and found his gaze fixed on her, the mischief dancing in his eyes and his mouth sporting that sardonic grin of his. _Now 'e must think I'm really loosin' it! Look at him gloatin' like tha'! Oh I wish I could just smack tha' stupid grin o' his right off 'is face. Annoyin' piece o' flesh tha' need not exist! _

And there was her inner voice again, making another spectacular appearance, leaving her here looking like a fool so she could fight with the voice in her head. The very voice she would love to be rid of forever._ Oh, but what a fine piece o' flesh he is, ain't he Dee?_ Devon quickly disregarded the traitorous thought and addressed Sparrow, who simply stood there gloating like a boy scout who was able to knot the tightest knot and win one of those bloody badges from those "stupid-as-shit contests".

'I 'appen ta love this lil' fella, gotta problem wit' tha', mate?' she spat, her voice laced with venom as her eyes shot daggers at him.

'No, but I think yer forgettin' tha' ye be a pirate, tart.'

'An' what's tha' got ta do wit' anythin'?'

'Rule number one – Pirates don't love. Rule number two – Pirates don't have pets... need I go on luv?' Jack stated smugly with a slight twinkle in his eye while he had his arms crossed over his chest in mock severity.

'Oh I see, Mr. Know-it-all, then would ye be so kind as ta inform me an' all others present in this room why it is tha' some are allowed parrots an' monkeys, eh? Are they not deemed ta be 'pets' like Bullet 'ere. or did ye just casually ferget 'bout them, ye louse?' she retorted as she dared him to come back with an answer to that one. Hell, she could do with a nice little spat right now.

He shrugged his shoulders, for he knew he had lost the argument. 'Whatever luv, none o' me business anyways.'

'Damn right it ain't! Ye should learn ta keep tha' nose of yers outta me business!'

'Now since I saved yer sorry butt, or royal-pain-in-the-arse neck ta be more precise, I think tha' either ye should cut me some slack when I try ta lose graciously or I'll just have ta make it me business if I damn well please ta do so, heinous bitch!'

Elisabeth decided to intervene before this got any worse, so she sat herself down in between them, and swiftly changed the subject of conversation to prevent more verbal harassments to fly back and forth between the pirate duo. 'So how is it that you became a pirate Devon?' She decided it was a fair question to ask, especially since that particular question lingered in her mind ever since the first time she met the lady pirate.

Devon looked over at the woman with a frown on her face. Elisabeth awaited an answer but since Devon made no intention that she would give one, Elisabeth looked to her in all seriousness as she raised her voice a bit, 'No, seriously. I am dying to know.'

'I be Poseidon's illegitimate child,' Devon drawled while she focussed her attention on a tear in her nail.

Elisabeth watched in shock as she bit her nail, completely ignoring Elisabeth altogether. So she turned to Jack for help on this one, 'Does she ever answer a question like a normal person, Jack?'

Jack smirked. 'Sweetheart, I don't think Duville _is_ a normal person.'

'Damnit woman! All right FINE, if ye insist I'll tell ye! Though I'll tell ya tha' this sounds more like a bloody interrogation than 'pleasant conversation' ta me,' she fumed. 'I was born one, all right? An' no, I am NOT a normal person, even by th' likes o' Sparrow's standards it seems... an' tha' be sayin' somethin',' she smirked. 'Although now tha' I think 'bout it, I doubt tha' a proper definition o' normal even exists these days – what wit' all o' us bein' crazy an' all. An' who decides on th' status o' someone's normality anyways? Seems stupid fer one person ta be able ta decide such a thing ta me........' Realizing she'd gone off-track, Devon quickly shifted gears again. 'So there ye 'ave it! I be wicked, wild, crazy, extremely beautiful – when not beaten so tha' I have these lovely scars an' bruises linin' me body – an' daft as can be. A pirate by birth I be, pirate blood runs through me veins an' I can't deny it, don't intend to either. So sue me, hang me, or ye can hate me like everyone else seems ta do. Do whatever th' bloody hell yer heart desires 'cause I sure as hell don't give a damn!' Devon shouted while she tore from her seat and paced around the room in a right state.

When she saw the curious look on Elisabeth's face she forced herself to calm down and sat down once again, this time in one of the chairs in the room and flung her legs over the side. 'Fine, here's the deal.' She said slowly, while she let her hands fall in her lap. 'Ye see, me da was a Capt'n, pirate capt'n tha' is. An' a damn good one 'e was too. He sailed on a beautiful ship, which unfortunately sank after it got in a crossfire wit' th' damn Spaniards,' she spat the word out in severe distaste. 'Anyways, 'e was near Martinique when 'e raided a French vessel one day an' took me mum, th' daughter o' a French aristocrat, as a hostage. 'E wagered 'e could ransom her or maybe sell 'er ta a brothel or somethin'. Fate – however – had other plans an' they fell in love. Sparks flew b'tween 'em, then add two, subtract four, multiply by seven and then there was me.'

Jack smirked. 'Must 'ave been one Hell o' a delivery fer ye mum. I can't imagine anyone bein' able ta get tha' big head o' yers out, not ta mention tha' fat arse ye got!' _Tha' be bullshit Jack. She's got more muscle on 'er arse then ye've got beads in yer hair. But ye do love that ass, dontcha Jack? _He got up from the table and leaned smugly against the wall, his eyes scanning the room, looking at anything but HER.

Elisabeth and Will shot him an angry glare and gestured Devon to continue. Devon now had control over her temper, so she could ignore Jack's jibes and continue to tell her story about how she became who she was. 'I was made wit' passion on th' waves o' th' sea, an' born in one o' th' wildest freak storms ta date. So ye see? I had ta love th' ocean. I was destined ta become a pirate, even though me mum – God bless her soul – wanted me ta live a proper life. Me da always used ta say tha' I 'ad salt water running through me veins instead o' blood. Wish 'e was right, seein' how bloodstains are so hard ta get rid of. '

Jack suddenly became very interested in the tale. 'What was th' name o' yer father's ship, Duville?'

'The Dark Devotion, why?'

'The Dark Devotion? Ye mean yer father was Duncan Black?' he said in amazement.

Devon simply nodded; the memory of her father was still painful to her. When he died, she had lost the only person who ever truly understood her.

'But yer name is Duville!'

'Tha' be me mother's name,' she spoke softly. 'After me da died I chose ta take me mother's name an' followed in 'is footsteps an' turn into a proper pirate. I wanted ta prove meself, prove tha' I could do it on me own. The name Black would 'ave allowed me ta take th' easy route, gettin' me on any ship o' me choice easily. But I'm not th' kind who takes th' easy road, I much prefer th' hard one. I want ta earn th' respect meself. I think me da would 'ave approved o' me choice... 'e always did,' she said softly while her eyes drifted off, staring into space, remembering past moments with her father long since forgotten. She was lost in her reverie until Jack's melodic voice dragged her back to the present.

'But yer father was one o' th' best Captains in th' sweet trade lass. Ye should 'ave been, no I mean ye should BE proud ta bear 'is name,' Jack said, although deep down he deeply respected her decision. It was one of the many things he would never say aloud, but would continue to plague his mind. _She's somethin' else alright... _

'I don't deny me heritage, Jack. I wear 'is name every day on me skin,' she pointed to her black clothes. Devon also had a tattoo to honour her roots, but there was no need to inform anyone of that.

The sound of heavy footsteps broke the silence after Devon spoke and she and Jack jumped at the noise.

'Open up!!!' a deep voice shouted. The wooden door of the smithy rattled in its doorframe due to the amount of pressure and weight put upon it from the men on the other side. 'Open up! This is the Royal Navy! Open this door this instant, or we will be forced to break it down!'

Jack took Devon's hand and pulled her with him along the corridor, through the workshop and up the ladder that led up to the loft. This was the very loft he and Will had duelled in years prior. Jack figured that they would be safe there for the time being.

'But Bullet...' Devon whispered as she tugged on Jack's sleeve, begging him to let her go back.

'He'll be safe wit' Liz, don' worry,' Jack replied as he leapt with cat-like grace from beam to beam until he reached the platform on far wall. Devon quickly followed, hopping her way over, being cautious as not to make too much noise.

Once on the other side, the two pirates stood silently and heard the squeak of the door as it was opened beneath them...

Will was swift to open the door once Jack and Devon were out of sight, the pounding getting louder by the second. He was afraid the door would break down under the sheer force if he didn't open it soon.

When he swung the door open, he found himself facing a very angry Commodore that loomed impressively in the doorframe. Naturally he was accompanied with at least a dozen guards behind him.

'Commodore, what brings you here at this hour? Wasn't your new sword to your satisfaction?' Will asked while he blocked the Commodore's view and entrance into the Smithy.

'No, it's a fine blade, as always Mr. Turner. However that is not why I am here. Jack Sparrow is in Port Royal and has helped a very dangerous criminal escape, a certain female pirate to be exact. We believe that she is his ally. Since you and he are such good friends, I naturally concluded he would hide here,' Norrington's monotone voice held a superior quality as he looked down upon the Blacksmith.

On the loft Jack and Devon shared a look of disgust, not only because of the tone of voice he dared to use with Will, but also because of the fact that Norrington had called them allies.

Will eyed Norrington and boldly stated, 'No, in fact I haven't seen him. It's been a very long time since he set foot in the Smithy, Commodore. I'm sure you recall that day perfectly as a matter of fact.'

Norrington sneered and pushed Will aside as he glanced around the workshop. 'Somehow I find that hard to believe, Mr. Turner.' He turned to the guards, which waited outside, and yelled to them, 'Search every room top to bottom – and do it all night if it takes that long! They have got to be here!' Even while yelling, his voice retained that dull, monotonous quality.

The guards split up in pairs and began to search the workshop – looking behind the racks, under the tables, even underneath the donkey. Will had to suppress his laughter as he watched the guards look through the workshop, starting with places that no self-respecting pirate would ever hide in.

Will swiftly blocked Norrington's way as he was about to enter the corridor that separated the smithy from his house, 'Now I can't help but wonder... what makes you so sure it was him? Have you even seen his ship?'

Norrington tediously answered, 'No, we have had no sign of the Pearl. But it was him. There is not a single doubt in my mind about that,' and with that he stepped past Will and made his way into the Turner house.

* * *

On the loft Jack cursed, 'They've sailed off! I can't believe that mangy, ratty bitch I call me first mate sailed off!' 

Devon calmly placed her finger on his lips, 'Hush! Do you _want_ 'em ta find us?!' she hissed while she shot him one of her evil stares. 'What did ye expect 'em ta do? Think they'd wait 'round until they got caught? They did what every self respecting pirate would do. Ana did what ye'd 'ave done, ye egocentric twit! Ye can't blame them!'

Jack nodded in resignation, 'I know,' he sighed. 'But it's gonna be a whole lot harder ta get out o' here now without me Pearl... me whole bloody plan evolved 'round her.'

Devon looked at him and squeezed his shoulder to let him know that they would work it out somehow. Though she tensed a bit as well when she felt his muscles slightly contracting under her touch, 'We'll just have ta commandeer another.'

A wicked smile formed on Sparrow's lips at the thought, 'And ye know I'm very good at that!'

Devon crossed her arms in front of her chest, her breasts lifting a bit, examining the handsome – yet annoying – man that was standing in front of her. 'Bet ye are....'

Jack stepped a bit closer so that he could be level with her eyes, although his gaze was a bit lower than her eyes at the moment. 'I'm extremely talented at a plethora o' other things too, Duville,' he stated while he idly stroked the braids of his goatee.

Devon grinned mischievously, 'Whatever Sparrow,' and she broke the gaze and sauntered over to the wall on her left.

Jack followed her and casually leaned on the wall and placed his hand next to her head, and just as he was about to kiss her, they both stumbled backwards as the wall turned, sending them to the ground on the other side. When they landed Jack fell on top of Devon, 'You. Get. Yer. Arse. Off. O'. Me. Now. Ye. Pig!' she fumed. Jack just grinned mischievously and stated, 'I fail ta see a reason why I should get up, Duville. Or is it b'cause ye would like ta be on top?'

Devon narrowed her eyes and looked directly into his; ignoring the hunger she found in their depths to hiss, 'Very well then, _Capt'n_, ye asked for it,' she stated and then rolled over, yanking his hair and elbowing him in the process.

A string of curses from Jack followed while Devon got up, and she was able to free her clothes from the spider webs that seemed to be all over. She shuddered when she felt the sticky, tender weavings which covered her fingertips. _I swear if I find even one o' those things in me hair, I'm gonna scream bloody murder! _Not many knew, but Devon had a rather large fear of spiders, so she shook her curls wildly, just in case.

Jack regained his breath, and his control over his mouth, and got back on his feet and looked around. They appeared to be in a hidden room within the smithy that Will had failed to mention to him previously, not only that but in front of them was a small staircase that led to yet another loft.

Jack smirked. 'Th' amazin' things one can discover under th' roof o' a Eunuch's house.'

* * *

Down in the workshop the guards continued to frantically search for the two pirates, but still they found nothing. They had searched the whole place thoroughly, but there was no sign of either pirate. 

Meanwhile Norrington strode into the Turner living room and he found Elisabeth and a strange looking small dog on the ground.

'Hello Mrs. Turner,' he said, as he felt the proverbial knife twisting in his heart as he said her name. She was supposed to be his wife, and even after all this time it still pained him that she had chosen otherwise.

'James! What a pleasant surprise!' Elisabeth said with the perfect amount of practised glee as she stroked Bullet behind his pointy ears. Then, as a few guards marched through behind Norrington she dropped her act, 'What is the meaning of this?' Her temper rose as she rose to her full height with her hands on her hips.

'Where is he, Elisabeth?' Norrington inquired impatiently.

'And just _who_ would this be?' she seethed.

'Jack Sparrow!' he practically spat the name out.

'How am I supposed to know? He sails the seven seas every day, and you expect me to know where he is every minute? I do not keep track of his voyages. Aside from that, James, I have not seen him since the day of my wedding,' she stated as she looked at him innocently, but her voice and tone betrayed that angelic face.

Norrington frowned and muttered, 'And I should have arrested the scoundrel there and then,' as he looked around the room he noticed the dog by her feet.

'I never knew you had a dog.'

'Oh, we only look after it for a friend. And since we would like to have a dog of our own one day, I gladly inclined to her request,' Liz stated.

'I'm sorry I don't have time for chit-chat, Mrs. Turner, but we have to search your rooms,' and without even waiting for a reply, Norrington signalled the guards to begin their search through the Turner house. Closets were opened, rooms were searched, windows were checked and drapes were shoved aside.

Bullet growled venomously at the Commodore and flashed its fangs.

Norrington backed up, 'Keep that creature away from me!' Elisabeth smiled. _'A pirate's dog indeed...'_

One of the guards that had searched the smithy, Pringle, entered the Turner living room and saluted to Norrington. 'We have searched the entire workshop, Sir, but there is no sign of them.' As if on cue another guard came and told Norrington that they found nothing in the private rooms of the house either.

Norrington's left eye started to twitch and he bit the inside of his cheek so hard that he started to taste the metal flavour of his own blood. 'I don't care how long it takes, but we are going to find them! And when we do, they are going to hang!' He stormed back into the workshop and the stopped in his tracks as he noticed the loft. 'Has anyone checked up there?' he inquired with a slight hint of anger embedded in his otherwise monotone voice as he pointed towards the loft.

Pringle climbed the ladder and two other guards followed. After a short amount of time, due to the lack of space in which to check, they returned downstairs, empty handed. Somehow they hadn't found or noticed the secret passage. Norrington then had no other option but to leave seething with frustration. Again, they had failed. And failure did not bode well with the Commodore. Both pirates had outsmarted him before and it was very hard for him to be forced to admit they had managed to do so yet again.

* * *

As soon as the guards and the Commodore had left, Will scaled the small ladder quickly and crossed over to the loft. He realized when the guards had not found them, that the two pirates must have discovered the secret passage. But as soon as he went to open the secret passage, he heard noises. But they were not the noises that he had expected. He had thought he would hear snide comments or the voices of both pirates screaming at each other. But Will Turner heard noises that were definitely not meant for him to hear. He couldn't help himself and he had to investigate further, so he pressed his ear to the wall. He heard a shoving sound followed by the squeaking of floorboards. 

As he heard a loud hoarse moan followed by another, softer one he blushed and quickly made his way out of the loft. _'I hate her, my arse!!! I think our dear Captain Jack Sparrow needs to get himself a dictionary and look up the definition of the word hate... that or he really needs to screw his head on straight – unless of course he enjoys being the Kind of Backward,'_ he chuckled to himself as he thought of the interesting relationship those two shared.

**A/N II Now, please don't give me a mental breakdown and review already! Even if you don't find Linnie's hidden movie references, review and win a place in my scurvy black heart forever! And ever... and ever.. and ever AFTER!!!**


	18. Like two ships passing in the night

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I just borrow, I am not making profit, only spend too much time on thinking how to use the things I borrow..._

**E/n: There are just too many reasons for me not getting this chapter to you sooner ... none of which you really want to hear so I will just thank those who bore with me through this and kept their weapons in storage for the moment. I've had an extremely busy beginning of term at school (Yes, I'm back at school but hopefully I can use one of those days as a beta-ing day. ;)) and an even busier time preparing to leave after I got back from Vegas (which was wonderful by the way). Anyway, no time to put in quotes from me this chapter but I think you'll forgive me for that one. So, without any more from me – enjoy luvs!**

_**A/N So many of you started worrying that chapter 18 would be the end of this tale, well I can tell you, dear friends, that this story is not over till I say it's over! And there are pleny more chapters to come... Now aren't you glad I told you that. And further more I like to think this chapter is well worth the wait! And now, start reading already!**_

**_Warning: This chapter does contain explicit material (I didn't rate the story a strong M for nothing)!! _**

"We all need to look into the dark side of our nature - that's where

the energy is, the passion. People are afraid of that

because it holds pieces of us we're busy denying."

-Sue Grafton-

Chapter 18

**- Like two ships passing in the night ... -**

'Do those bruises still 'urt?' he inquired while he studied her face and arms. True, the swelling on her face had lessened somewhat, but all the bruises she had were still as "beautiful" as ever, especially the ones on her arms. He could see the impressions of rough digits in the bruises when she rolled up her sleeves.

'I've felt worse,' she stated emotionless while she glanced out of the small window in front of them. Port Royal looked peaceful now, almost serene as the sun began to set and the night-time fog began to appear along the streets. Day was soon to trade places with night, and from her vantage she could just catch a glimpse of the full moon that waited behind a formation of clouds, eager to make her grand appearance. Devon sighed. It always amazed her that no matter how wonderful or dismal the place was, no matter how joyous or ghastly the situation – the setting sun and the rising moon would always have their dance. Their forms and shapes might change, their colours might blend and cascade a bit differently each day, but they would rise and set just like they had done for centuries previously and as they would do for centuries to come. They would rise and fall, just like the ocean would when the sun and the moon would draw in the tides. Devon had always been fascinated with their capacity to control the water level when one left so that the other could shine.

She trembled slightly as she felt warmth envelope her and a small stream of air slide past her cheek, which in turn caused a few of her hairs to twirl around her face. 'Yer an extraordinary woman, ye know tha', Duville?' _Oh just listen ta tha' voice... deep, melodic, sensual. Bet he'd be a great singer... _she pondered, hesitant to speak her mind since she was a bit unsure whether he had meant the "extraordinary" as a compliment or an insult. _Pr'bly th' latter..._

As she turned her head slightly, the whiskers of his moustache brushed her lips. She drew her head back a bit and smiled; the small diamond embedded in her tooth catching the colours of the setting sun.

'How do ye know I'm even a woman, Sparrow?' she teased while she tried to step past him to escape the awkward situation of this closeness. She was losing control already, just by the mere sound of his voice. It seemed that he triggered a primal instinct inside of her and she was not willing to let that go. Not yet.

Jack pulled her back by her wrist, and he knew he used too much force when her lip twitched ever-so-slightly. He never meant to hurt her, but Devon still would not give in. She did her best to hide the flash of pain in her wrist and averted her eyes from his gaze. _Never show pain. Never! _Unfortunately for her, Jack did notice that she was in pain, though that slight twitch was all he saw.

'Trust me Duville, I know a woman when I see one. An' yer ALL woman,' he grinned deviously as he raked her body with his eyes.

Devon spoke flatly, as she belatedly realised that he had meant the "extraordinary" as a compliment, 'Forgot ye investigated that territory Sparrow.'

He pulled her close to him, 'And ye should know tha' I 'ave every intention of investigatin' it even further,' he purred while a devilish smile curled his lips.

'Can ye ever say anythin' without havin' a double meanin' b'hind it?'

'Can you?'

'Try me damnedest not to,' she grinned. 'Altho' I 'ave a reputation ta keep up ye know.'

'And if yer as good at tha' as ye are at keepin' certain body parts up, ye 'ave nothin' ta worry about, ye lil' bitch.'

At his "insult" Devon forcefully grabbed hold of his braided, beaded beard and yanked his head down, successfully hurting him while even pulling out a few hairs in the process. Jack yelped, 'Ouch woman! Don't ye know how much tha' bloody hurts!'

Devon lips curled into a predatory smile, and he was eerily reminded of a wild animal about to attack its prey. 'I've told ye tha' would be Miss Bitch to ye, Sparrow! Ye really should try an' remember tha'! An' don't be such a pansy fer God's sake! If ye wanna spend th' night wit' me, ye'll 'ave ta get used ta a certain degree of pain.' As her speech progressed, she continued to move closer to him, so that when she stopped her lips almost touched his, leaving just enough room for a stream of air to flow through his rugged moustache. This had him filled with anguish and anxiety, and he could read the same in her eyes while she looked haughtily back at him.

He looked at her, she was so confident. Her eyes radiated a fire that sent a shiver down his spine and made his heart pound. He knew there was no denying that the words she had just spoken in her affluent, weathered drawl was music to his ears. He couldn't hold back any longer and forced his lips onto hers, and poured out all his suppressed passion into that single kiss.

Before he even gave her time to react, he suddenly pushed her back and strode past her as he shoved her aside. _This is not a good idea. Not good at all. All th' naughty, indecent things I could be doin' to her, or th' ones she could do ta me...They might be what I need, what I want, but they're bad, very bad... extremely bad! _His thoughts were in complete disarray as he paced the floor, fidgeting with his fingers. _But what'll 'appen after I've had me way wit'her? I 'ave ta get her back ta Drake, but what if she wants ta stay wit' me? Women get attached to me all th' time, why would she be different? I can't allow tha' ta happen. She's gonna claim me. What if she wants more than a one night thing? But she's got a reputation that proves otherwise, Jack! _He sighed, _Yes, but I 'ave a reputation too, women don't let go easily when it comes ta ol' Jack... But you want her, don't ye Jack? Ye wanna feel her, touch her... ever thought tha' it might be you tha' doesn't want this ta end after tonight? Hmmmm? Ye need her an' ye want her, don't ya? _He bit his lip again, noticing how this had become quite the habit of his since their first encounter, drawing blood this time. _God only knows how much I do... but if I do everything's gonna change... _He shook his head firmly, tasting the metallic flavour in his mouth, while his trinkets clashed together and hit his face._ Wait a minute ... I'll just ignore th' bitch so nothin' happens. I'm just gonna think o' cabbage all night! That ought to extinguish those feelings of lust from me mind. Cabbages! _He smirked._ Big, green cabbages. _And with as much determination he could muster he kept the thought of cabbages in his mind, and he was doing a fine job at that, until he felt a warm rough hand graze his neck, and fingers nestling in his hair. She pressed her body against his and spoke very softly with her mouth very close to his ear. Her rich voice touched his eardrum as she spoke. He balled his firsts and his mind yelled, _CABBAGE, CABBAGE, CABBAGE!_

'I'm not th' kind o' woman tha' likes ta be ignored, Sparrow,' she whispered into his ear while she twirled a strand of his tousled hair around her finger. 'I know ye want me an' ta be frank, I am in a givin' mood tonight. Yer worried, right? Don't worry yer handsome head, Capt'n. Jus' look at us as two ships passin' in th' night. Tonight we drop anchor an' enjoy th' time there is ta spend together. After tha' we go our separate ways an' never speak o' tonight again. No questions asked, no strings attached.'

He turned around and looked into her eyes, which were now glistening liquid silver as they caught the moonlight. 'That simple, eh?'

She planted a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, 'Life, dear Captain, is only as complicated as ye want ta make it. I admit I can be difficult, but tonight I am a simple gel. I don't desire big words or promises neither of us is willin' ta keep, an' I won't give no guarantees either. Let's not complicate things. I'm jus' looking for a big strong man ta spend some time with. An' tonight, mon Capitan, you will do.' She said as her hand travelled lower along his spine. She gave him a seductive grin and hoarsely whispered, 'Oh yes, ye'll do just fine.'

Now at this point Jack's mind had forgotten the meaning of the word cabbage all together and was focused on the words coming out of those luscious, beautiful lips of hers. _Where th' bloody hell did tha' come from! _But before Jack could process that thought any further, her fingers travelled from his back across his chest and her lips were crushed onto his. Any stray thought he may have had at this point was driven out of his mind and he could think of nothing else but the perverted fantasies that she seemed to extract from his mind. Everybody had a dark side, he knew, but this woman – the one that seemed to have found her way into his mind – was the darker side of him. He blanched as he remembered the words she had sung in the cell earlier – she had voiced those exact words. Before he could dwell on the irony of that situation, lust took over and his fingers snatched a hold on the black leather that embraced her body like a second skin and tried to pull her back to him. But Devon had other ideas and promptly shoved his fingers aside and forced him to sit down.

She stood up and strode away from him, taking slow, deliberate steps and sashaying her way across the room. She stopped and turned around when she reached a point where he could not reach or touch her. Jack's eyes sparkled with mischief when she began to sluggishly remove her boots. Jack soon found that he didn't need to force himself to stay in the chair since he was stunned by what was going on in front of him, but that didn't stop his hands from just itching to aide her in ridding herself of her clothing. Devon gave him a full view of her cleavage when she bent over further than she needed to, in order to distract his eyes from the map that was still hidden inside her boot. _I might be in a sharin' mood, but I'd be damned if th' wrong Capt'n gets th' map! _She thought, while she made sure the map would remain hidden from sight.

When she glanced up quickly from underneath the veil of curls that fell over her face, she was pleased to see that he couldn't keep his eyes off her chest. Devon smirked. _Yer goin' ta be a lot o' fun ta play wit', Sparrow. _Slowly she rose to her full height again and agonizingly slowly undressed herself, almost dancing around the room, her body bathed in the moonlight while she let more and more of her clothes and weapons fall to the floor.

The rays stuck her every curve, her countless scars, tattoos and bruises. The light cast a glow on her, and Jack snorted when he realized that it made her look almost angelic – but the look in her eyes gave her away completely. Devon danced slowly about him and devoured him with her eyes. Jack could feel his blood pumping, and he was sure that she would be able to hear it as well. He wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman in the past. Giselle, Scarlett, Ebony, Sue-Ellen, Dolores – none of them could hold a candle to this beauty before him. Hell they weren't worthy of standing in the shadow of this hedonistic piratess. He wanted her so bad it hurt, literally. His breeches were getting too tight for comfort and sitting down like this hurt him like hell. Devon gradually danced towards him, and kept her eyes locked on his. She would only meet his eyes every so often since his seemed to roam her body most of the time, but occasionally they would travel back to hers and Devon found herself drowning in their depths.

While she undressed his lean muscular torso, she briefly shivered when she felt the nakedness of his skin and could feel his dark eyes as they scanned her body and it made her dizzy with anticipation. She simply couldn't keep her eyes off him. She had known, and felt, how strong he was – but feeling the muscle of his naked chest and seeing his scars, tattoos and wounds positively overwhelmed her. The tattoos were nicely done, though she couldn't help but think that she could've done a better job. Apparently he never visited Lee, since she had yet to see anything that looked like his handiwork. Had he done any of these, she knew they would've been quite a bit more detailed. Even with their minor faults, she still had to admit that they were beautiful and suited him well. As her eyes continued their journey along his chest, she ironically found a few wounds at his side that were similar to some scars that she bore. The Navy had given her those a few years back in Nassau and had probably given him his. They never did excel in originality when it came to torment. _Can't teach a dumb dog new tricks now can ye Dee?_

Jack slowly traced the rugged lines of a scar underneath her right breast with his finger. Devon's hairs stood on end and she got chills, and it was all due to the slight tickling sensation of his long fingers as they caressed her skin. The long rugged scar went all the way down to below her navel. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, 'Now where did ye get tha'?'

'Hispañola,' she stated flatly. 'Not one of me best stories I'm afraid,' while she idly played with one of the braids in his hair.

'Care ta tell me 'bout it?'

'Nay,' she said as she claimed his lips, her mouth swallowing the words on the tip of his tongue before he got the chance to ask again.

After a few minutes Jack broke the kiss and grazed his fingers across the Jolly Roger tattoo on her hip. 'How 'bout this one then?' He recognised the symbols on it – it was her father's flag.

'Yer a Capt'n aren't ya, ye know what it means...'

'Yer dad's eh?' She nodded while she stretched herself out in front of him.

He couldn't help but admire her body again, she was strongly built for a woman, her body suited for hard labour and yet still so damned feminine, his eyes were drawn to her immediately but of course this could have something to do with the fact that she was completely naked and sprawled out in front of him. He was stunned, since even the whores and wenches that he spent time with kept _some_ of their clothing on.

''Ave ye no shame, Duville?' he managed to cough out though his eyes were locked on the profile of beautiful backside. His eyes roamed the curve of her hips… His hands yearned to touch her again. If only there had been a bit more light in this loft, then he would have been able to see even more of her.

'Ye mean about me nakedness?' she asked, full-well knowing the answer. 'Why? Do ya see anythin' I should be ashamed 'bout then?'

'Can't say tha' I do,' he smirked.

'Then stop askin' such irrelevant questions...' she said while she turned away from him and stared out of the small window.

As she stood in the moonlight, she gave him quite a view of her arched back while she walked away, and he spotted two intricate large dark wings, one on each shoulder blade with the words "Ange Noir" written between them. Jack rubbed his chin in quiet admiration. _Represents 'er very well, she be just tha'. A dark angel..._ _MY ange noir... BLOODY HELL! Where th' blazes did tha' come from! _How he hated that voice! He shook it off as his gaze dropped lower along her beautiful back.

Thankful for the light, Jack spotted another tattoo on his way down, just above her bum, the very one he had seen flashes of earlier. Now that he finally got the chance to see what it was, he took his time to examine the artwork. It was something he would not have expected, though undeniably fascinating, just like her other ones had been.

His eyes surveyed the two s-shaped black dragons that faced each other in front of the wheel of a ship, the centre of which had been designed to look like the face of a compass. He also noted that the dragons were not spitting fire, but were spitting water instead. Clearly she really did love the ocean, and if he didn't know better, he guessed that she also longed to captain a ship of her own one day. Tattoos were a forte of his, having so many himself, and he knew they told stories of the person who bore them. Though most designs were a mystery to the onlooker since the stories behind them were not revealed to just anyone. And this particular one – usually hidden by layers of strong leather and thin cotton – could've very well told him the most about the beautiful, stubborn, cocky and hedonistic woman that stood naked before him.

While smirking at the thoughts of her running through his head, his eyes travelled lower still and he noticed the tattoo on her well-toned butt: two entwining D's in front of two crossed pistols, surrounded by flames. He gazed at it, naturally admiring both the artwork and the canvas. He greatly enjoyed the way the artist had adorned her tan skin with her initials. _How did she get so tan, anyway? _He mused, after looking closer and seeing no clear distinction between the colour of her skin he gave up that train of thought and acted on impulse. He walked up to her, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down to him. Devon found herself wishing that he would never let her go. Naturally, a split second later she cursed her mind for betraying her. _Ye said ta keep it simple, Dee. And there ya go and make things complicated again... or is it tha' ye love him after all?_

She wildly threw her head back, her curls pouring down and around her face and neck. She didn't love... she couldn't love... she was a pirate! But if she did, it might just have to stay her little secret now wouldn't it? And at this point in time, she wasn't worried because she just simply lusting after him. Oh yes, she was lusting after him real bad.

Jack wasted no time and kissed her roughly while his whiskers tickled her skin. Then he broke the deep, zealous kiss to place butterfly kisses over the scar he had given her weeks ago. He instantly regretted giving her said scar when he felt its rough edges with his lips and knew that she didn't have it stitched. Just like when he didn't have the scar on his arm tended too. _Hmmm, perhaps she didn't want ta answer questions either?_

As the pale moonlight fell upon her face, its brilliance made her hair seem almost midnight blue instead of inky black. He – again – found himself admiring her beauty. Her blue eyes glistened under the moonlight and he wondered how it was possible that the Hellcat could look this good even when she was bruised. In his eyes she looked like a dark fairy, a dark angel, an empress of the night. The scars and tattoos on her skin only made her more attractive to him. Perhaps he understood their appeal because of the fact that he bore such scars and tattoos himself, and knew how they enhanced one's appearance – even a woman's... maybe especially a woman's for that matter. It intrigued him because never before had he met a woman with designs on her skin. Sure his whores and wenches were dirty, but never the less they were clean in that sense.

She was no blushing virgin with fair and undamaged skin. To him, her body was like a treasure map. Every single scar had a story behind it and every tattoo told its myth. All of them were landmarks, guiding him along the curves and rims of her body and subsequently were showing him more and more of who she was. She was a chart that he desperately wanted to explore. And here she was giving him his wish, unfolding herself before him, revealing every inch of herself for him to explore to his heart's content.

And for the first time in her life, Devon relinquished her desire to control as she handed him the leashes and submitted herself to his command.

_After all, he does outrank me. He IS a Captain. And it will only be fer a lil' while..._

She cupped his face with her hand and pulled it up by gently tugging his twin braided beard so his eyes levelled with her own instead of her breasts. 'Don't make me regret this, Sparrow,' she said hoarsely and she felt her heart start to race as he unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his breeches. It seemed that he was just like her, and he felt no shame and proudly showed off his body. Very thankful indeed, she feasted her eyes on his masculine figure as she let her eyes feast upon his physique.

'Oh ye needn't worry 'bout tha' Miss Bitch, I promise,' he whispered as he looked her deep into her eyes.

'Ah, a promise from a dishonest man... somehow tha' doesn't sound real trustworthy ta me.' She moaned as she felt his hand slide between her thighs.

He looked deeper into her eyes, 'A promise made from a dishonest man to a dishonest woman means just as much as one made from an honest man to an honest woman, luv,' he said matter-of-factly as he slid inside of her. The warm dampness that surrounded him told him she wanted this just as much as he did.

Devon had to agree that his explanation made perfectly good sense, so she shrugged her shoulders and gave in. She moved her body and skilfully followed his rhythm, grinding her hips with each thrust. Jack started teasingly slowly, then gradually picking up his pace when he noticed she was urging him to go on. Devon felt as though all of her hidden emotions were released and she had no control over her actions anymore. The things this man was doing to her were beyond her comprehension. All she knew was that the Dragon was now loose.

Jack Sparrow seemed to sense what she wanted and needed and was able to get her primal instincts to surface. He read her dirty little mind, revealing all of her hidden emotions and fantasies. And little by little he let her in so that she could read his mind as well. He had given her entry to his fantasies... and his eyes weren't so secretive anymore. She could see herself in his eyes, where, before tonight, all she had been able to see was the chocolate darkness, an inexplicable deep, dark abyss.

He kissed her neck and traced her collarbone with his tongue. He felt her pulse while as he did so and couldn't suppress his grin when he felt how her heart was pounding irregularly and loudly. Devon's nails dug into the flesh of his back and the sensation of pain mixed with his arousal. He thrusts hard again, causing her and himself to gasp in pleasure.

She twisted her body underneath him and he ceased movement promptly.

'Don't bail out on me now, Sparrow,' she whispered hoarsely, voice thick with lust as she grinded her hips again, contracting her muscles around his pride and joy.

_CABBAGE, CABBAGE, CABBAGE!_

'I 'ave ta Duville _(CABBAGE, CABBAGE!)_, we wouldn't want this to end so soon _(CABBAGE!)_,now would we?' he whispered back while he kissed her face. When he saw the little droplets of salty sweat that glistened on her face and body, all the bloody cabbages in the world could not take away the feelings that raged through his body at that moment, all due to this woman. The woman he – supposedly – hated with a great passion. Now he found himself loving her with a great passion. _Loving? Loving? BLOODY HELL! _All these mixed emotions were driving him insane, and it certainly did not help him to focus when he heard her moan and looked down at the temptress beneath as she took his finger and put it in her hot mouth as she gently sucked it. The look of seduction in her eyes made his blood boil and urged him to go on. He couldn't help but give in to his needs again.

Devon herself couldn't bare his passiveness any longer and yanked his head down while she bit his earlobe. She wrapped her legs around his waist and contracted her inner muscles around him. The raging fire inside Jack's body was growing steadily larger and beyond his control. She was bringing out the beast in him. She knew what drove men insane, and what was driving HIM insane at this very moment. He attacked her nipple with his lips and Devon moaned, 'Vous n'a pas d'idée que vous faites à moi.' You have no idea what you are doing to me.

Jack languidly licked her nipple and their eyes met; sapphires and onyxes both glistened with a mixture of delight and arousal. He gave her a trademark asymmetrical grin. 'Oh, mais je fais, mon cher, je fais...' Oh, but I do, my dear, I do... and he kissed her roughly, claiming every inch of her mouth, as he played with her tongue.

Speaking in French had always aroused Devon. Though what Devon didn't know was that the same thing happened to Jack when he spoke the language of love. Devon decided she had played the pacifist role long enough and rolled them over with great skill and ease so she was on top. The feelings that whirled through her body at this moment made her forget about her pain and she indulged in the passion that she and Jack shared. She thrust her hips forward as she touched herself on top of Jack. The pirate didn't know what was more pleasurable, seeing her enjoyment or feeling his own. Never before had a little rump been this satisfactory. She circled his body and Jack reached out to touch her breasts. The feel of them only added to his arousal and he couldn't bring himself to let them go. They were perfect for his hands and he had to pull her down so he could play with her nipple again.

They danced the forbidden dance and whilst their sweat mingled, their fluids blended and their bodies became one. It was just like their minds had done much earlier, without either of them even realising it.

Devon contracted her muscles around him as she rode him, clenching him between her strong thighs, and Jack knew her reputation was very well earned. Devon Duville was without a doubt the best lay he ever had. No woman had ever given him these feelings, not even the ones he had to pay extra for. And the best thing was – he thought while his mouth twisted in a devilish grin – they had only just started and there were no charges...

As if she had read his mind Devon moaned, 'I can see aaaaaaaaaaaaah ye live up ta yer reputation, Captain Sparrow. Oooooooooooooh Most men I meet are intimidated hmmmmmmmmmmmm by me or just don't 'ave a clue as ta what they're doing or how ta please a woman, ye're different...I guess ye earned yer rep after all.' 'OH GOD THIS FEELS GOOD!'

'What are ye, a bloody mind reader or somethin'?' he groaned while he placed his hands on her hips to pick up the pace again. She took him in even deeper as he kneaded her sides with his ring-clad hands.

Devon gave him a wicked grin as she threw her head back, 'Maybe I am, maybe I'm not... but tonight...' she moaned while she looked him deep in the eyes, 'I'll be whatever ye want me ta be...'

'Oh God, Devon...' Jack grunted as he felt her muscles contract around him again, the sensation alone was enough to drive him insane, but the way her eyes seemed to look right through him only added to his ecstasy. It was only in the deep recesses of his mind that he vaguely realised that he had called out her given name. And for the first time and he had said is as if it was the most beautiful name that had ever come out of his mouth. Maybe that was because it was, because she was... his head and heart were overrun with mixed emotions, while his body was flooded with a whirlwind of emotions of a whole different kind. _This means somethin', don't it, Jack? Ye know it does, she's gotten to ye... _Jack looked up at the woman that was riding him like a wild Amazon. He suddenly became all too aware of a feeling he couldn't identify in the pit of his stomach.

Devon was quite confused when he moaned her name, he had only called her Duville or harassed her before and yet she couldn't suppress a grin when she heard his velvet voice moan her name... _Ye hate his guts, remember Dee? Yer just doin' this ta kill time, don't dwell on something as meaningless as tha'... Or is it tha' yer heart gettin' involved this time? It's jus' like I've been tryin' ta tell ye ain't it? Ye've lost track of the line, haven't ye, Dee? Ye've crossed over it so many times it don't even seem ta exist anymore. De ye erase it? _Devon tried not to listen to her inner conflicts. This was getting too bloody complicated. _What do ye feel for him Dee? Yer horny I know, but what else? _Devon bit the inside of her cheek so hopefully the pain would banish that annoying voice from her mind. Then as the voices faded her eyes were drawn to Jack's, and in those eyes she could see that he seemed to be fighting the same inner battle she was... Y_e've opened up to 'im, Dee. Don't ye go denyin' it... But he's done the same... ye can tell, cant ye? _

Jack's hands roamed her sides again, travelling up to play with her breasts and Devon crushed her lips onto his, playing with his tongue, submitting herself to her lust. As Jack did the same, there was no room for thoughts anymore as pure, sheer passion claimed every inch of their bodies.

After a while gravity lost its hold on them and the pair entered a state of pure bliss.

* * *

The moans Will had heard on the loft earlier only got louder, as did the pounding and shovelling sounds. In fact the sounds were becoming so loud they even found their way into the Turner's bedroom. It seemed that Jack and Devon weren't the only ones that would get no sleep that night... It seemed that they were also the cause of a certain Will Turner's insomnia as well.

**A/N Now please, review, 'cause I am dying to find out what you think! ****Review, and I shall love you forever!**

_re-edited: 27-03-2008_


	19. Bitter Sweet Denial

_Disclaimer: The weather has changed, my haircolor has changed – yet again -, we've changed the colour of our kitchen walls, but one fact did however remain the same.... I still own nada. The only things in this tale I do own, are the scenes, ships, characters you did not find in the mouse's movie._

**E/n: Sincerest apologies lovelies ... but school has been rather rough on me this first month. I hope to be able to work my schedule so that I can get a chapter done every two weeks at the latest so we'll see how that goes. Smooches!! Thank you for being so patient with the two of us.**

**_A/N: Now that my dear friend Linthilde has explained why the posting of this chapter was slightly delayed (yeah I know, understatement) I can tell you that the posting would have taken even longer if we had not split chapter 19 in two. Which technically means, the rest of it is still in the capable hands of my dear editor and shall be posted as chapter 20 (oh, can't you see I am so good with numbers?) a.s.a.p._**

Now to answer a few questions from reviewers:

To RandomGal21; you can find my age at the top of my page when you click my penname on the left side of the screen (happy hunting) !!! Why ever would you want to know that I wonder...

And I really want to thank gReeNeYedeLfguRL13 for her compliments, though those $ 500,00 would have come in handy when we redecorated the kitchen (wink) and finally to blackcharityflint to answer your question, the song used in the previous chapter was "Damn" by LeAnn Rimes. Now that those questions have been answered I would like to thank those who I did not mention for reviewing and making my day...

FunkyFlamingo – Terradaina – Roxula's Bride – Kira Vorhees – Anakusan – Evil Duckie of the Black Lagoon – ZigZag – LaLa – Daisy – chiefhow – XeniaBondfan - katesparrow – Xcoolcomic

Thank all of you for sharing your opinions with the author (that would be me), hope you'll enjoy our next installment...

"**I can imagine the moment, **

**breaking out through the silence. **

**All the things that we both might say... **

**and the heart it will not be denied **

**'til we're both ****on the same damn side, **

**all the barriers blown away."**

**- _Peter Gabriel -_**

**Chapter 19 **

**- Bitter sweet denial -**

With the dawn of the next morning, which was really only a few hours after the pirate duo ceased their night-time activities, came a warm glow that fell through the small window above the two pirates, and cast a soft light within the loft. It seemed almost magical with its pinkish-orange hue as it fell over the two figures lying in each other's embrace. There was a scent of bodily fluids and salty sweat which hung in the air, and the clothes, weaponry and other assets could be found where they had been carelessly dropped or thrown the night before. But then again, by the standards of the randy pirate duo the loft was actually rather tidy.

The only items that had been folded into a neat bundle were Devon's vest and Jack's waistcoat, but this was only because they were used as makeshift pillows. Naturally the Turners had several spare bedrooms that they could've slept in, but Will Turner had no intentions to disturb the pair the night before. And since there wasn't much furniture in the secret loft other than several tattered chairs and a few other pieces of worn furniture, Jack and Devon had consequently fallen asleep on the rough floor.

Playing devilishly lusty games on a hard wooden floor was one thing, but they found that attempting to get some decent shut-eye on it afterwards, was a different matter entirely. But both pirates had spent nights on harder floors then this wooden one and had spent most of said nights shackled and without any entertaining company. So it was that comfort that allowed them to get a few hours of well deserved sleep that night. That and the fact that they were thoroughly exhausted from said games with said company.

Cautiously, Will Turner peered into the secret passage door and climbed the dusty stairs. He reached the landing and padded across the wooden floor as quiet as a mouse. He stood still for a few moments, and found that once his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light in the room, the first thing he noticed was a tangled bunch of black curls and dark brown beaded dreads and several tan limbs splayed across the floor in front of him. _'Thank God they're not facing me, or I would have seen a lot more pirate than I bargained for,' _he mused with a smirk on his face. There was no sign of either of the pirates being awake, and since Will didn't feel like waking naked people, especially when those naked people happened to be pirates with horrid tempers, he figured that the best idea would be to attempt to quietly return downstairs and let them sleep off whatever was needed to be slept off.

After reaching said decision, Will turned to leave the loft, but before he could even take one step back down a raw voice spoke, 'Are ye jus' gonna stand there like a mute, dear Eunuch? Or would ye care ta enlighten me why yer starin' at us?' Will cringed. How is it that Jack always seemed to be able to catch him off guard?

Jack looked down at Devon and found her still fast asleep, her hair partially covering his shoulder and tickling his nose. He smiled when he compared her audacious appearance from last night and the face of an angel which she now wore. _Me darlin' Devon ye couldn't look more like an ange noir than ye do right now..._ he mused, fighting the overwhelming urge to kiss her.

Just as a blushing Will was about to retort, Jack tore his eyes away from the sleeping beauty and spoke, his deep voice cutting off any response from Will. 'Or did ye want me an' the Hellcat 'ere 'ave ta give ye a few pointers on 'ow ta improve yer love life?'

At that moment Jack felt a firm tug on his beard, and he yelped in pain while he tried to pry her demanding fingers from his beloved braided trademark. 'Bloody hell woman, yer gonna yank it off! Do ye 'ave any idea 'ow long it took me ta grow tha'? Will. You. Just. Fuckin'. Let. Go?!' he growled, instantly forgetting how he wanted to kiss her moments ago and falling back into his I-hate-her-with-a-passion routine. 'Duville, I said will ye let go? Seriously, I mean it! Let. Go!!!' Despite Jack's attempts to remove her fingers that seemed to be latched to his beard, Devon's fingers never wavered or lost their grip on the facial hair but she simply smiled at him. That smile just made him even more angry, 'Took me years ta get me beard right woman, let go this instant!!!' he said in his best 'Captain voice' while his fingers kept on fidgeting with hers. Part of him wanted to get up and shake her off, but he knew they were both stark naked with a certain Will Turner still in the room, that might not be the best of situations to be in. Not only that but by getting up he would pull her along on his beard and that would cause infinitely more pain than he was in at the moment.

Her husky alto laugh reverberated throughout the loft and Jack positively loved its sweet sound, even the overall effect was tainted by the addition of Will's tenor chuckle. 'I bet it'll take me a helluva lot less time ta rid ye of it, ye facetious bastard. An' don' EVER call me Hellcat 'gain!' she hissed at him. She couldn't resist one last tug to get her point across before she released his braids and reached for her blouse. She deftly threw it on, and didn't even miss the golden opportunity to jam an elbow in his ribs while she did so. It pained Jack, in more ways then one, that she had ruined the moment for him. The fact that he could've watched her get dressed would have normally been a very erotic moment to him, if it weren't for the pain she caused while doing it.

Devon graciously tilted her head towards Will Turner, flashing him a broad pseudo-innocent smile. And truth be told, being able to give a convincing and innocent smile while awake and sober was quite difficult for someone like Devon Duville. The gem on her tooth glittered in the rays of the morning sun as she addressed William.

'Pay no 'tention ta th' grumpy stinkin' swab o'er there, Mr. Turner. Methinks our dear vain sailor is jus' projectin' 'is own insecurities on others... like when 'e calls someone a eunuch. An' me theory is tha' 'e be projectin' said insecurities on _ye_ ta be precise.' She flashed another grin at him and William returned it with a broad one of his own. Will found that he already liked the piratess, for he enjoyed how she could put Jack in his place in the exact same way he would do to others. She had used _his_ secret weapon, namely wits and clever insolence, on _him_ and Will adored her for it.

'I 'appen ta 'ave no insecurities what so ever, wench! An' will ye – jus' – stop – hurtin' – me – already?!' Jack spat in irritation and exasperation while he rubbed his sore side. 'An' jus' why in th' Blazes aren't ye still asleep?!?!'

'It be a bit 'ard fer a woman ta sleep when th' man next ta 'er could easily overpower th' sound o' a herd o' wild hippopotamuses wit' his own snorin', Sparrow. An' t'be even 'arder when said man be yellin' very loudly as well, an' dangerously close ta 'er eardrum ta boot.'

'Jack Sparrow _does not_ snore, ye demonic harlot!' Jack roared in return.

'Oh my, did I jus' hear tha' right? Seems ye forgot th' Capt'n, _Capt'n,_' she quipped as she pulled his face closer to hers by his precious braids. 'Now ye see, tha' be what a wild nigh' wit' Devon Duville does ta a man, they ferget who they are an' it seems things like titles are lil' or nothin' afterward.' And with that she stuck the tip of her tongue out at Jack, before turning her head, setting Jack's beard free once more, and buttoning her blouse, so that she could turn around and address William properly. She didn't think it would be too polite of her to shove her nakedness in Will Turner's handsome face.

She tilted her head and winked conspiratorially at the handsome blacksmith. 'Denial be mostly one o' th' first symptoms o' an insecure man, Mr. Turner. It seems 'e's got quite th' tender, fragile soul after all...' she grinned while she mockingly stroked Jack's jaw with the palm of her hand. 'Now if ye've come ta inform us tha' breakfast is ready, I'll be down in a flash 'cause I be famished,' she said with glee.

Then, she rubbed her chin in thought and cocked an eyebrow, 'Or would ye rather 'ave me show ye some tricks that'll drive tha' missus o' yers wild? Or better yet, send th' lovely Mrs. Turner up 'erself, an' I can teach th' doll things that'll leave a smile on yer fetchin' face fer days,' Devon stated, and amusedly studied the face of the now slightly crimson William Turner.

Will was astounded and couldn't think of anything to say other than a hasty, 'Meet you downstairs then!' before he swiftly turned and practically ran down the stairs.

'E's such a spoilsport!' Devon laughed and reached for her pants. As she bent to pick said garment up, she found Jack grinning at her impishly. It seemed his hate-her-with-a-passion mode, had been replaced with the surprised-and-loving mode for a brief moment.

'Wha'?' she asked, raising her eyebrows at his expression.

'Ye certainly 'ave a way with men, Duville. Me thinks ye've scared th' livin' Hell out o' dear William!' he smirked.

'Nonsense, me thinks tha' _dear William, _as ye so affectionately call 'im, be jus' fine. But I mos' definitely 'ad me way wit' ye last night...' she chuckled while she got to her feet and stretched her sore muscles. 'An' wha' can I say? I jus' can't seem ta behave 'round good lookin' men – ne'er could...' she winked at him and took a deep, elegant bow. Of course while she bowed, she just _happened_ to give Jack another quick glimpse of her curvy nakedness beneath the thin cotton fabric.

'No luv, I do believe tha' I've had _my_ way with ye, _not_ th' other way 'round,' Jack hissed at her most certainly incorrect statement. Naturally he couldn't prevent his eyes from travelling up along her long legs and up the rest of her, nor could he prevent his body from reacting to hers again. He swiftly reached for his hat and any clothing nearby, to cover his erection for as long as needed, without looking too suspicious. _By all th' green boiled cabbages in th' whole of th' bloody world, why an' just bleedin' how does she do tha' ta me??_

Devon pointedly ignored him and turned her back on him while she got dressed and armed. Despite the state they were both in, she just _had_ to have the final say in the matter. 'It be o' insignificant importance whom abused whom last nigh' Sparrow, 'cause th' things tha' 'appened last nigh' will ne'er 'appened anyways as far as our agreement goes. But jus' ta set th' record straight – I ravished ye, sailed yer body so ta speak, so therefore I was yer Capt'n, Capt'n. An' as ye well know, Capt'n Spank-me-silly, th' person on top does th' ravagin' an' if I recall I _was_ on top most o' th' time. But as I was sayin', it never 'appened anyways an' it will most definitely will ne'er 'appen again,' she stated matter-of-factly, while a smug grin graced her face.

Jack's left eye slightly began to twitch, and he felt the most bizarre mixture of desire and anger well up inside of him, but before he even opened his mouth to retort, he thought that perhaps this time it might be best to keep his mouth shut. She was right after all; he could still feel the splinters from the hard, unpolished wooden floor on his back and bum. Last night they hadn't bothered him. Nay, he knew that last night he would have been most willing to let her fuck him on a bed of nails, _even_ in the deepest circle of Hell with Lucifer himself pinching his behind with his pitchfork. He would have gladly endured that pain in order to have his filthy way with her. But right now he felt the painful fragments of raw wood, and he hated himself for giving in to his urges.

Once he came back to reality he also got dressed, muttering a vast number of insults of a great variety of languages under his breath in the process. He armed himself and contemplated whether or not he would let his dirk _accidentally_ fly out of his hands in her direction. But before he could even begin to contemplate the punishment he would receive for that one, Devon was already descending the stairs down to the kitchen. But she couldn't stop there, no she _had_ to walk down said stairs while she hummed an annoyingly cheerful tune.

Jack gritted his teeth as the mess of black curls and leather wrapped braids bobbed out of his sight. _Why can't I jus' hate 'er like b'fore?_ he mused angrily. _Tha' would be because las' nigh' changed ev'rything tha' was b'fore didn't it?' _'Oh bloody wonderful, so now's th' time I decide ta develop some distorted version o' a conscience...' He muttered to himself and sighed as he prepared for the mental battle. '_Gobbledygook! One meaningless nigh' wit' a willin' harlot don't change anythin'! It ne'er changed nothin' b'fore!'_ _'Jack, Jack, Jack... why won't ye jus' admit tha' she's unlike any other woman ye've met b'fore, eh?? An' why won't ye jus' list'n ta yer heart. Ye know its right 'bout this one...'_ Jack Sparrow shook his head so violently at that offensive statement that his trinkets whipped his face_. 'Tis wrong an' me heart's got nothin' ta do wit' it! _But that annoying voice just couldn't leave him be. '_Ye know I be right...' _Jack stormed down the small stairs and forcefully drove his hand into the wall. Even then the voice wouldn't waver. _'Dear Capt'n, why won't ye just fact it? But nooooo... ye've got ta be th' stubborn one! Why ye wouldn't know th' truth o' yer heart's desire even if it hit ye right in th' bloody face!' _

Will was used to Jack's filthy comments and sexual remarks, but never before had he heard a woman make such annotations. And to have said woman say such things out loud, in front of others, while she was half naked – without being in the privacy of a bedroom – and be perfectly fine about it, was something else entirely. The woman acted as though this was a normal occurrence and it rattled him to say the least. It had been like listening to Jack talk, though he had distinctly heard her voice and he had seen her lips moving. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs and was about to open the secret passage, he rubbed his chin in deep thought about this enigma of a piratess. _She is a pirate after all, and perhaps female pirates think, speak and act the same way the opposite sex does. No, but wait, that can't be true, since AnaMaria is a female pirate and she doesn't behave like Devon Duville does... _

As he slowly made his way across the lower platform to the small ladder, which would lead him back to the smithy, he climbed down, and found that his mind was still focused on thoughts of the dark haired piratess that he had spent the night under his roof in the company of Jack. And by judging the sheer number and loudness of the noises that had kept him awake during the night, they had more in common than just their indecent choice of words... A smile formed on his lips as he shook his head again. Jack Sparrow had truly found his counterpart in her, in every sense of the word...

As Will returned to Elisabeth, he found her setting the table with two more sets of china than they normally used. Even now he still could not shake the thought of how natural those two pirates looked together and how similar they were. But of course thinking about them also lead to remember just how immensely annoying and disrespectful they were as well.

He hugged his wife, planted a loving kiss on her cheek and silently thanked her for being her normal lovely self on this crazy morning.

Elisabeth turned around and kissed him passionately. Once she broke the kiss, she studied her husband's face and saw that he was troubled.

'What's wrong Will? You look as if you've just seen water burn.'

'Well I did see something similar to burning water...' he said mysteriously.

Elisabeth raised her eyebrows at her husband, 'What is it Will? Tell me!!'

He smiled, 'Do you remember telling me you found something oddly familiar about Miss Duville, but you couldn't quite place the feeling?'

Elisabeth quickly nodded, urging Will on because she was eager to find out just what he was talking about. 'Yes, but I am still not sure what that is.'

'It just so happens that I just found out!' said Will triumphantly. 'She's a female version of Jack! They have the same mannerisms, a similar speech pattern, and the same attitude and are both extremely stubborn, among other things. Not only that, but I think Jack likes her more than he's willing to admit...'

Elisabeth giggled, after finally having confirmation that the sounds she heard last night had truly been what she thought they were. 'Do you mean to say they......?'

Will grinned back at his wife, 'I think that our dear Captain Jack Sparrow has found himself a girl.'

Suddenly a rich voice was heard behind them that took them both completely by surprise, 'I ain't a girl, dear Mr. Turner, an' I sure as Hell ain't Sparrow's one! Last nigh' was last nigh'. No less or no more than just one nigh', ye see.... Twas meanin'less, insignificant, an' although it was very entertainin', twas still meanin'less. However, if ye do 'ave th' strong an' inescapable desire ta label or title me...'

'...Then Heinous bitch would be quite****appropriate.' Jack finished the sentence for her as he strolled past, sporting quite the sardonic and twisted grin on his face as he did so.

Devon shot him a venomous glare and hissed, 'Oh bite me, Sparrow!'

He strode back to her, his lustrous dark brown eyes never loosing contact with her raging indigo ones.

'That's _Captain_, ye sassy tart. An' did I not take care of tha' last night?' he taunted, obviously very amused with himself, while he shoved her curls aside, revealing a love bite, HIS love bite to be precise. And it was located just under the scar that he had also given her. 'Aye, it seems I did...' Devon couldn't help but shiver when his fingers brushed her skin again. Flashes of the steamy hot war they fought last night came back to her in a flood of memories. But before the inward smile was able to grace her lips due to the thoughts in her head, she cursed herself for not tying the scarf around her neck when she dressed earlier.

Elisabeth looked at the love bite, astonished, but as her gaze dropped a tad bit lower, she also noticed the scar on Devon's neck.

'How did you get that?' she asked somewhat shocked, but curious, while she reached out to touch the scar tissue on the side of Devon's neck.

Jack rolled his eyes while he grinned at Elisabeth, 'Don't tell me dear William 'ere never gave ye one 'o those?' he queried while he glanced at Will.

'You wish that he gave me a scar, Jack?' Elisabeth said in exasperation 'Fortunately for me he did not!'

Jack cursed himself for forgetting about the scar and for not nibbling Duville on the other side of her royal-pain-in-the-arse neck.

Devon casually sat herself down in one of the chairs and lazily picked her fingernails while she drawled, 'Well my darlin' Missus Turner, p'haps yer 'usband didn't give me this lovely thing, but one o' 'is blades sure did.' Devon had studied Jack's sword, and saw that it was a thing of beauty, it was crafted with such devotion, and there wasn't a single doubt in her mind the detailed handiwork on it was done by none other than Will Turner.

Elisabeth looked at Devon in shock, putting two and two together quite quickly, 'Please don't tell me Jack did that?'

At that point Jack decided that his feet were in desperate need of his attention, so he looked down to study them while he casually hummed to himself, while he hoped and prayed to every God he could think of that this discussion would end simply because he wished that it would. Of course, it didn't, nor did the accusing looks on Will's and Elisabeth's faces falter.

Devon didn't feel the need to answer Elisabeth's question, the silence that hung it the air of the kitchen did that well enough. Instead she took a roll of bread from the basket that was in the middle of the dinner table, and chewed on it.

Elisabeth leaned over the table so her eyes met Devon's, 'He _did_ give you that scar, did he not?'

Jack sighed, knowing he had to face the music, since Elisabeth wasn't the type to just drop a subject. 'Aye, lass, I did. But just so ye know, th' Hellcat over there ain't as harmless as ye seem ta think she is!'

Will and Elisabeth gave him a very venomous look, 'That is no excuse to hurt a lady, Jack! And would you stop it with the name-calling!' Will shouted angrily.

'She ain't a lady fer Pete's sake an' she bloody asked fer it, she did! She provoked me!' Jack shouted, while he rolled up his sleeve to reveal the evidence of her so-called 'harmlessness.'

''E's right, dear. The nigh' we met we had erm... Well, let's say we 'ad a bit o' a misunderstandin' an' things got slightly out o' hand,' Devon said truthfully, given that the proof of her short temper was able to be seen by all in the hazy rays of the morning sun.

Elisabeth sighed. '_Slightly_ out of hand?! So you mean to tell us _that_ scar –' she said while she pointed accusingly to Jack's upper arm '– was your doing?'

'Guilty as charged,' Devon stated softly, while she buttered another piece of bread.

At this statement, Will found his voice and added his own thoughts on the matter. 'Well, aren't you quite the pair! I'm surprised you didn't kill each other last night.'

'We ain't a pair!!' Jack and Devon nearly screamed simultaneously. The truth is that how they had gotten along so incredibly well last night was beyond the both of them as well.

Elisabeth glanced between the two pirates in her dining room. She found enough information in the way they looked at each other and the way their eyes seemed to light up when they bickered. Their spoken and shouted words were belied by the emotions that were buried deep in their eyes. Eyes always gives anyone's true feelings away, and although she could tell they both did their utmost to lead on that they loathed each other, even after the events of last night, it seemed that they did not do a very convincing job of it.

Elisabeth could sense the fact that they had feelings for each other even without searching their eyes, but it was those emotions that were present in their eyes that let her know that she was right. These two arguing and wrangling pirates were clearly in denial. And if Devon was as stubborn as Jack, which appeared to be the case, they would stay in this realm of denial for quite some time...

While Elisabeth was thinking this over, Devon looked around the room in an attempt to escape the strange sensation Jack's eyes gave her. It was then that she caught sight of her reflection in a mirror and as she slightly tilted her head, she perceived the proof of her 'relations' with Jack. The two markings on her skin said it all. It truly was an ironic symbol. It was as though love and hate were right there to be painted like some picture across her skin.

Devon looked at Jack only to find him gazing back at her. Devon quickly averted her eyes. She knew she denied it and Jack did too, but deep down inside the truth was there, it had been there all along. The only problem was that now it must be hidden again, buried underneath the thick layers of bitter sweet denial. In the battle love was clearly gaining territory on hate, but for a pirate, it was just so much easier to hate...

**A/N II Now go on, don't be shy... share those thoughts and make my days in cold Holland a bit brighter!**

Lots of love and until next time,

The DuTchess of Doom


	20. The holiness of rum and the honour of a ...

_Disclaimer: The quote about daydreaming you'll find near the end of this chapter (which I have slightly changed to my benefit) is by T.E. Lawrence and I have loved it ever since I first read it. And now, finally, I can use it! Or, borrow it, without permission! Just like I have borrowed the dashing pirate captain, his majestic ship, his non-mutineering crew and his territorial waters and ports. I have borrowed them without permission, just to fulfil my own writer's desires, making no profit what so ever. The honest, creative side in me invented a few other ships, crew and a gorgeous, stubborn, wicked, randy piratess to complete this tale. There you have it! I have said it._

**E/n: 'Ello luvs! Hopefully I'll never make you wait that long again but honestly this year has me crazy with work and being a Chem Major that's taking 5 classes that include 3 three-hour labs a week, homework and extracurricular activities is keeping me extremely busy.**

**Although I must say, have chapters to edit during Midterms and crazy test-taking time was a rather nice distraction so maybe I'll get more done than I thought. ;) Just a reminder, anytime you see a quote in the chapters, let me know in the reviews because you'll get a nice treat if you're right! That's all for now! Ta luvs!**

**A note from the author: This is the second half of the prior chapter, I hope you guys enjoy it like I did when writing it and as Linnie did when she edited it! Let us know what you think and I really should tell you to go and look if you can find quotes, 'cause the treat Linnie referred to is a really nice thing to receive.... ! Now go read already!**

"_There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit_

_calms as rum and true religion."_

_-Lord Byron-_

**Chapter 20**

**The Holiness of Rum and the Honour of a Pirate **

Will decided that he wanted to keep the pirates from exploding at each other again, so he thought that switching the topic from their current discussion about Jack and Devon's scars might be a good idea. The first thing he could think of that would interest a woman like Devon was the story behind their adventure a few years back.

Elisabeth soon jumped into the conversation, telling Devon her accounts of her abduction by Barbossa, the Isla de Muerta, the cursed treasure of Cortez, the medallion, about the Black Pearl being a floating home on the sea that gave refuge to an undead Captain and crew, and how Jack finally got his Pearl back after making quite a grand exit in Port Royal. Elisabeth giggled as she told Devon of how Jack had tried to woo her while they were marooned on that, as Jack described it, Godforsaken spit of land.

Then Jack, being the taleteller extraordinaire of the lot, took over and told his fellow piratess about how it had all really started. He told a grand tale about how he met Will how they had duelled and parried on the floor and in the lofts of the smithy, and how the story had carried out from that point. Of course his version was definitely much livelier than the tale the Turners told, and Jack added movements and impersonations to make it a feast for the ears and eyes to behold. He even used one of the pokers from the fireplace as a sword, since he wasn't too keen on facing Lizzie's wrath should he slash anything off the table or rip the fine burgundy drapes to shreds in his seemingly uncontrollable movements with a real sword.

Devon smiled and noticed that Jack was truly in his element. Sure sailors were the storytelling part of society, but pirates, and especially pirate Captains, were the best storytellers. That much she knew from experience, and all too well in some instances. Sure, they left out a great deal of the truth in any story and tended to add more detail than necessary, but they had a gift for leaving their audiences hanging on by a mere thread. And as far as she could see, Jack Sparrow was the top of the bill. When he acted out the role of Elisabeth in the story, he portrayed her with a hilarious falsetto, and Devon almost wet herself. But thank goodness she was able to keep control of that region of her body and the only fluids that managed to escape were the tears of laughter that trailed down her cheeks. Then Jack reached the part of the story where he and Elisabeth were marooned and told Devon how Elisabeth had burned all the rum there was on that little island, while Jack was sleeping no less.

'Ye burned _rum_?' Devon asked in shock, her snickers vanishing instantly like snow in the presence of strong sunlight, looking over at the porcelain skinned woman in front of her, absolutely appalled. 'What th' bloody Hell possessed ye ta do such a thing?'

Jack looked at Devon, 'Exactly what I was thinkin'. But she didn't jus' burn some o' th' rum ... she burnt ALL o' it, just tossed whole barrels of rum into tha' wicked bonfire o' hers!' His hands were waving around Devon's face as he picked apart the situation for Devon, and she could see the anger in his eyes.

'Ye _burned_ all th' rum?' Devon asked again while she tore her eyes from Jack and travelled over to Elisabeth's visage. She really couldn't comprehend how someone would do such a dreadful thing, and _on purpose_ nonetheless. When Elisabeth stayed silent, Devon prodded again. 'But why? Why would ye burn _rum_? Ye really burnt _rum_?'

'Yes,' Elisabeth sighed. 'I burnt the rum. One: Rum is a vile drink that even turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. And two: I was trying to make a smoke signal in order to get us saved,' she said in exasperation. 'You are a woman – you should understand!'

Devon looked at Jack before she looked at Elisabeth, 'I might be a woman an' all, but above all I be a pirate, an' rum is th' fuel tha' drives us. Ye NEVER burn a pirate's rum doll. Ye should ne'er even so much as spill a DROP o' a pirate's rum. If ye ever burnt me rum, ye wouldn't have lived ta tell 'bout it o'er breakfast! This proves tha' Sparrow is quite th' gen'leman, might not be a respectable one mind ye, but 'e let ye live. Methinks he be more o' a gen'lemen than I.'

Will couldn't help but laugh and Elisabeth soon joined him. Giggles and chuckles filled the dining room after Devon's comment.

Devon continued her rant in spite of the chuckles and laughs from the Turners. 'Rum is cherished, rum is sacred, rum is precious, rum is holy. Ye never EVER burn rum!' she practically shouted at a flabbergasted Elisabeth.

Then she turned to face Jack once again, 'Such a terrible waste o' perfectly good rum. It's not in th' code, but if I were a Capt'n I'd be damned sure tha' I put it in _meself_! Ye never EVER burn rum!' Devon slammed her fist on the table, cutlery jumping in the air, dishes rattled and she had a look on her face that described quite a terrible sense of loss. And it hadn't even been _her_ rum to begin with.

Jack hadn't laughed along with the Turners. After all, rum was something serious to any pirate. One just doesn't make fun of rum. He just sat there thinking about what the Hellcat had just done. She had come to his defence, hadn't she? Well not exactly _his_ defence, but still to the rum's defence, and with that she just earned herself a medal in his book.

Will knew there was something behind pirates and their rum, but he found that he just _had_ to ask what it was. 'What's the deal with pirates and rum anyway?'

Devon rolled her eyes at his sheer stupidity and looked to Jack, 'Ye sure tha' this be Bootstrap Bill's son? How can 'e be half pirate an' not know?'

Jack flashed a golden smile at her, 'Oh but he is! He's jus' been out o' th' water fer too long. That an' he can't hold his liquor ta save his life.' Jack and Devon both chuckled at the indignant look on Will's face.

After she'd finished chuckling at the young blacksmith, Devon pondered the story of the curse, and found it very interesting, so she began to wonder if the Inca treasure that her shipmates were going after might have an ancient curse on it as well. But she shrugged it off, since Devon wasn't really one to believe in fairytales or ghost stories. Devon wasn't superstitious either and thought that whatever the three people that shared this table with her had encountered, would or could be logically explained. But Devon did not share her opinion of this with the others out of politeness.

When she had heard Jack Sparrow had lost his beloved ship twice to the same man who was supposedly cursed, she had felt truly sorry for him. Cursed or not, Barbossa was a name that was always linked to trouble, to murder and now to mutiny as well. She had never met the man, but even from the stories she had heard about him, she knew she strongly disliked the man. Jack Sparrow had ended Barbossa's life, and also rid the world of one big good-for-nothing scumbag. _He should get a reward fer tha'..._ Devon mused while she munched on her bread once more.

'Could you please pass me the milk, Jack?' Elisabeth asked while she used her silverware to cut her bread into petite squares and took tiny bites from her fork.

'There ye go luv,' Jack said with his mouth full as he passed the milk over to her. 'Now all I be needin' is a lil' somethin' ta wash this down wit' meself. Could ye please be so kind as ta pass me th' rum?'

Will rolled his eyes, 'For heaven's sake! This is _breakfast_ Jack! For breakfast most people drink milk _not_ rum. The sun has just risen and already you want to drink?'

Jack took a large bite from his sandwich and munched on it 'But I'm not a normal person now am I?' Jack said with wink to Devon. 'An' yer point would be what exactly whelp?'

'Milk is good for you!' Elisabeth said, while she gave him a lecturing glance.

'Yeah, yeah, drink yer milk, eat yer veggies and ye'll grow up big 'n strong! Yadayadayada....'

Devon grinned, 'Ye could try ta do so too, dear Capt'n. Maybe ye'll grow up big 'n strong one day.'

Jack tossed the remains of his buttered bread at her head, but she instinctively ducked before it could hit her. It hit the wall behind her instead, stuck to it, and left a nice greasy stain along the wall as it slowly slid down.

'This isn't an invitation fer a food fight now is it, Sparrow?' she said with a playful twinkle in her eyes.

Both the Turners stood up and Will raised his voice at the two elders in the room, who were not acting like it, and shouted, 'No!! No food fights under this roof! It's enough to tolerate your bickering as it is. You two act just like children, now sit down and eat your breakfast like the adults you really are!'

Jack turned to Devon and whispered none-to-softly, 'Tells us ta act like adults yet he lectures us like children...'

Will raised his voice again, 'Well then act like your age and you won't hear any complaints from either of us.'

Devon gulped down her milk, leaving a white moustache to grace her mouth and said, 'Jus' drink th' damn milk, Sparrow. Lest they try ta bottle feed us...' before she licked the remaining milk off her lips.

Jack couldn't take his eyes off Devon's lips and the sexual innuendo she just made by licking the white fluid from them. 'I wouldn't complain if it were rum instead o' this damn dairy, tho' I also wouldn't complain if ye be breastfeedin' me either.' _Oh God, why – just WHY – did I jus' say tha'?!?_

Elisabeth wanted to explain to Jack that technically women could not produce milk until they were with child, but decided against it. Somehow she thought that the pirate would consider that useless information.

Devon hissed between her teeth as she gave him a venomous glare, 'Drink it, Sparrow! I be findin' it extremely bloody 'ard ta control me hands again... it seems tha' they just wanna rip those cute lil' braids o' yers off o' tha' darlin' lil' chin.'

Instinctively Jack caressed his beloved braided goatee as if to protect it from the hands of the wicked piratess.

The look in Devon's eyes and the reaction from Jack made the Turners chuckle once more. But it was that livid look that Devon gave him that made Jack take a swig from his glass. He made a face as he gulped it down. Not that it was all that bad, but he just preferred his drink to be something that would leave a burning, warming sensation in his throat along with the feeling of bliss that followed path of the liquid. This was just a plain flavoured cold fluid that babes drank, and that made him shudder at the mere thought.

Devon smiled, for she had made him cave, and she thoroughly enjoyed that feeling. 'Good boy,' she said, while she stood up from the table to walk over to Sparrow. She hit him firmly between his shoulder blades 'Now be an even better boy and burp...' She could barely suppress her grin as she taunted Jack. What she didn't expect was that Jack would tilt his head and look at her with a pseudo-innocent smile as he let out an enormous milk-belch right in her face.

'Jack!!' Elisabeth shouted in exasperation.

Devon looked at Elisabeth, 'Charmin' specimen, this one is...' she said amusedly while she jerked her thumb over her shoulder to point at Jack.

Jack simply smiled, 'One tries luv...'

* * *

All in all, breakfast at the Turner's had been an enjoyable and educational experience for Devon. But now, after they all had finally finished their breakfast in an almost civilized manner, given that the pirate duo refused the offered silverware and preferred to eat with their hands instead, it was at last time to say their goodbyes.

Devon hugged Elisabeth warmly, 'Thanks ever so much Mrs. Turner. An' tha' be fer both yer hospt'tality an' fer 'elpin' me. I won't ever ferget what ye an' yer 'usband 'ave done fer me.'

Elisabeth took the older woman's rough, yet warm hand in her own, 'Please, do call me Elisabeth.'

Devon gave her a warm smile, 'Very well then. Elisabeth thank ye fer everythin', it's been a pleasure ta meet ye,' she turned around and faced Will, 'an' ye as well o' course. Thanks fer lettin' us hide here fer the time bein'.'

Will smiled. 'It has been my pleasure, Miss Duville.'

'Devon...' she said warmly, her weathered voice as smooth as velvet. _Hmmm.... If I'd 'ave all o' th' time in th' world an' yer wife wasn't such a nice person, I sure as Hell would've fancied meetin' ye b'tween th' sheets, dear William. But on second thought methinks I'd be a lil' too much fer ye ta handle...._

'Then it has been my pleasure, Devon,' he said with a slight regal tone in his voice as he shook her hand. 'Feel free to drop by again. You'll always be welcome here,' he said warmly.

Devon grinned. 'That be a lovely an' generous offer ta be sure, William, but I'm positive tha' th' Authorities won't allow me ta visit all too of'en. They're prob'ly busy makin' warrant signs tha' won't do me any justice at this very moment anyhow.'

Jack overheard their conversation and couldn't suppress a grin at Devon's statement. Visions of his warrant signs came to mind and he was certain that they most certainly didn't do him justice.

When he averted his eyes from Devon and Will, he walked up to Elisabeth and hugged her. 'Take care lass. An' take care o' th' whelp fer me as well. An' who knows, maybe next time I drop by ta visit ye'll 'ave a lil' whelp of yer own.'

Elisabeth slapped Jack's arm, 'Don't tease my husband like that, Jack. And there _are_ such things as baby girls too, you know?'

Jack shrugged his shoulders, and when he realised he couldn't think of a suitable name for a female whelp he left Elisabeth's side and began to rifle through some of the drawers of the cabinet in their dining room. _Whelpess? No, no, tha' won't do. Whelpette perhaps?_

Devon smiled, 'Thought ye said th' man be a eunuch, toad brain. Ye jus' luv ta keep contradictin' yerself, don't ye?'

She glanced over to the cabinet and looked at him with narrowed eyes, 'An' are ye intendin' ta steal their silverware or fine china, Sparrow?'

He shot a pointed look at her and found her with a large grin on her face, 'One does not steal from nice people, remember prick?'

He silently dropped the silver napkin holders back in the drawer and closed it casually.

Will looked at her and Devon winked at him, 'Projectin' insecurities, remember lad? An' don't worry I don't think Elisabeth would settle fer anything less than a real man, am I right Elisabeth?'

Elisabeth smiled and nodded.

'See? No worries then!' Devon shouted with glee 'After all, Jack 'imself couldn't even woo her properly, since 'e's a bit insecure 'bout 'is manhood an' all....'

Will and Elisabeth chuckled and Devon gained a pinch from Jack. 'Truth hurts don't it, Sparrow?'

His face nuzzled hers and he whispered, 'I can vaguely recall wooing a certain raven haired strumpet las' nigh'...'

Devon grabbed hold of the two small braids in Jack's goatee again, and yanked his head down ever so gently, while she whispered, 'Wooin'? Tha' be what ye call it? Methinks ye mean droolin', oh dearest Capt'n o' mine. Methinks ye've let more saliva drip onta th' floor than a lama would've or could've done.' Then she let go of the braids, and patted him teasingly on his cheek.

Jack's left eye started to twitch again and he forcefully grabbed her wrist, pulling her along with him, 'Time ta go now, ye nuisance!'

'Aye Sir!' she mockingly saluted and followed it with a holler, 'Bullet!!!! Get yer tail over 'ere!!'

The small bulldog crawled out from under the table wagging its tiny tail as Devon leashed it.

Devon caught Elisabeth pouting while she looked longingly at Bullet. After she heard Elisabeth sigh, she placed a comforting hand on her shoulder in compassion.

'Yer gonna miss 'im, won't ye?'

Elisabeth nodded, softly chewing on her bottom lip.

'I'd leave 'im 'ere if I could, but truth be told, I be lost without 'im. Maybe one day I'll return 'ere, after Norrie's forgotten 'ow much he wants me an' he'll be havin' them sweaty dreams 'bout another blushin' virgin...' she paused and a devilish glint showed in her blue eyes, 'I'll buy ye a pup of yer own.'

Elisabeth's face lit up after hearing Devon's words, a bright smile formed on her lips. Jack and Will couldn't suppress their grins. Will was grinning, because he knew Devon Duville wasn't a blushing virgin anymore after last night. And Jack grinned, because he knew Devon Duville had been far from a virgin to begin with.

Elisabeth hugged Devon in an almost suffocating embrace. 'You would? You would buy one of those little puppies for me??'

Devon smiled while she tapped her finger on her chin. 'Well, I prob'ly wouldn't _buy_ one lass, but I could bring ye one. Pirates honour,' she stated and placed her right hand over her heart.

Jack tugged at her sleeve, 'We really need ta get going now, luv (cough) _TART.'_ Jack bit the inside of his lip, how could he have made such a mistake again?? He had said it and even worse, he had really meant it, before he had only just thought about it. The word had just slipped from his lips, almost naturally. He had called her "luv" before, but that had been mockingly, now he had spoken it in the same way he had pronounced her given name in last night. And that, to Captain Jack Sparrow, was rather disturbing. Not only were his mind and heart betraying him, his mouth had also started to do so as well.

Devon flashed him a lecherous smile, 'Patience be a virtue Sparrow. But I see it ain't one o' yer best features now is it?'

_Did he jus' say luv like 'e really meant it? Nah, probably just me damn imagination._

'C'mon Bullet, we've got a ship ta commandeer!' Devon said and she took rather large steps to beat Sparrow to the door. She placed her tattered hat on her curls, pulled it slightly southwards to cover her eyes again and tugged down her sleeves. The dragon had to be hidden again. Jack followed her example and hooded himself with his beloved frayed tricorn on his wild manes. Once again, the daylight would be their worst enemy. The trick here was to mingle. But for these two extraordinary and quite eccentric pirates, blending in with the crowd was as easy as finding a needle in a haystack. Captain Jack Sparrow would stand out in a crowd of even a million. And as for Devon – The Dragon – Duville, well, she wasn't a hard one to miss either.

They would have to be quick, slick and bold, Jack thought. He looked at the sassy smart mouthed woman that had made his world rumble ever since that night in _The Treasure Chest_, and knew they would pull it off. The way they had pulled off their escape yesterday, without even planning it at first, had made him realise something. He and the tart thought alike. Not only that, but they made quite the team. That fact had been proven again in the night they had shared. And it was something about that made which him uneasy, but right now he only saw the benefits. They could pull it off together. They _would_ pull it off together. As long as she would keep her mouth shut, that was. That and she'd have to loose the damned dog.

* * *

Meanwhile in _The Hazard's _armoury:

Dacosta found himself bored without the company of the ship's master gunner. He had been assigned to Dee's tasks, since he would usually assist her with the work in the armoury, whenever she actually _let_ him assist that is. But being down in the bowels of the ship in the semi-dark without her snide remarks and obscene jokes was just downright boring. He even found himself missing her bickering, nitpicking nature and the pranks she used to pull on him when they were down here. He looked around and found himself wondering just how he had cleaned only a few of the ships cannons, even though he had been down there since the crack of dawn. Devon used to work at lightning speed, so by this time she would've already finished all the canons, checked both the powder and ball supplies and still would've found the time to harass several crewmembers as well.

Dacosta couldn't help but smile. He hated her guts sometimes. Hell, there were many times when he had asked Drake to maroon her or toss her overboard when she had made fun of him and taunted him. But in the end, after years of working side by side with her, he learned to deal with her impious behaviour and had unknowingly found a friend for life in his mystical superior. If only there could be more than just friendship...

Dacosta knew he wasn't the only one aboard the Hazard that had sinful, sweaty, and wet dreams about her, but he also knew that Devon was a tease and would never let any of the crew come near her in that way. He grinned impishly while he worked on yet another cannon, finding himself sinking deeper and deeper into his reverie all the while. Oh, she was the Queen of sexual innuendo's... Like that one time they had been in Singapore, and had all a drink in that bar Devon's friend's brother owned after Devon had finished tattooing a crucifix with the good Lord Jesus on Jameson's back, and she did a very impressive number with a banana.... Of course Devon had been drunker than a fly that had fallen into a rum barrel, and all of them present, even Drake, had been intoxicated with both the rum and her performance. But oh, by Mary and all things holy, how he had wanted to be that banana.... But even then, she had not let any one of the Hazard crew lay a randy finger on her. She had teased and turned her crewmates on, but ended up leaving the tavern with some foreigner. It only occurred to him some time later that the foreigner had been no more than a Singapore native. Then the ghost of a smile that he had from the memory of Devon that night vanished as he stared around him.

To him it seemed as though the whole ship was empty without her. Not only was it because she was a stunning, breathtaking woman and _could_ be pleasurable company if she chose to be, but just because she was always unmistakably _there_ when she was aboard the ship. There was no way anyone could ignore her. Devon always made damn sure she got her share of attention. He grinned to himself, she wasn't always pleasurable company. Devon could be a huge pain in the arse. And the worst part of that was how she so enjoyed being a huge pain in the arse.

When Drake came downstairs to see how Dacosta was doing, he too was overwhelmed with Devon's absence.

'Awfully quiet without the spitfire 'round ain't it, mate?' he asked while he glanced around the armoury.

'Aye, Sir. Do ye think she managed to escape? Since I be assumin' she got 'erself caught when she didn't return tha' night.'

Drake rubbed his chin in thought. 'Well, she's done it b'fore. I think that we jus' 'ave ta keep faith.'

'But if she did escape, how will she be able ta get out o' Port Royal?'

The Captain frowned, his brushy eyebrows pulling together, and deep wrinkles appearing on his brow, 'Dunno, chap. She's an inventive woman, an' 'sides that Sparrow's there... they're bound ta run in ta each other. They're like magnets. Ye've seen yerself how they keep running in ta each other. An' when they meet I'm sure 'e'll give 'er a passage ta Bermuda.'

'But what if she don't meet 'im again?' Dacosta spoke, concern lacing his raw voice.

Drake studied the face of his gunner, 'Ye miss 'er dontcha?'

'Nay, jus' a wee bit worried 'bout 'er safety. She bein' a woman an' all...' he said flatly, though his eyes gave him away.

'She's missed by the lot o' us, mate. An' shell meet 'im, no doubt,' Drake spoke firmly, although he had a hard time convincing himself of the same hope as well. But then a small smile graced his lips as a thought occurred to him. 'She said she 'ad 'er heart as a compass right? She'll find her way back ta us.'

'Ye think she even got hold o' that map?'

'Sure as hell hope so, otherwise it would all 'ave been in vain.'

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow never did like dogs much. The scurvy mangy ones that would sniffle his feet in Tortuga always made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. And that rotten British mutt that guarded the blasted keys of his prison cell in the Fort in Port Royal constantly brought back bad thoughts and memories. Hell, after a while he had even fallen to his knees in order to persuade that damned mutt to bring him the keys. And this one, the one that was leashed to the dark haired piratess, was probably filled with fleas, and that made him frustrated like hell. This particular dog could very well be the one reason they could fail in their escape. After all, it had gotten her caught once.

Her brass voice shook him from his reverie, 'Dreamin' with yer eyes wide open, eh, Sparrow?'

Before he could open his mouth, she continued, 'Fancy that. Dreamin' at nigh' in th' dusty recesses of one's mind 'bout unfulfilled desires an' ungrasped opportunities only leaves one wakin' in th' morning wit' th' realisation t'was a vanity. But th' dreamers o' th' day are dangerous, 'cause they can act their dreams wit' open eyes an' make it possible.'

He stared at her with an open mouth. _Now tha' was deep. Never ceases ta amaze me. Love that 'bout 'er._ Before he could risk his life or betray himself again and say it aloud, he cleared his throat, 'Stop blabberin' nonsense, tart. Take a right 'ere. We ain't 'ere ta discuss th' wonders o' th' world if ye remember correctly.'

'An' there I was thinkin' how we could philosophise 'bout th' deeper meanin' o' things in th' middle o' th' streets...' then she felt his hands in her back as he shoved her forward.

'Keep yer mouth shut fer once an' at leas' _try_ ta focus!' he shot at her.

'I'm focussing!' she snapped while she continued walking in the direction Jack had forced her in.

But then, suddenly, she stopped mid stride, and caused Jack to run into the back of her, and was anything but gentle when he did so.

**A/N II : Now that we've updated at this speed, I really think it would be nothing but fair if you reviewed as rash as I've put this chapter up! I would be ever so grateful!!! So go on... hit that button and share those thoughts!**


	21. Taking Opportunities

_**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my vivid imagination! **_

**_A note from the author: Do not fret, dear loyal readers/reviewers I did not die in the middle of the story, nor am I abandoning this tale. (I am still working on new chapters!!!) So… in other words I am alive!!! And Kick(box)ing as well, yeah that has been taking some of my spare time, but I love doing it. Ok, random background info I know, but I thought I'd inform you about some of my hobbies! Now, back to the chapter. I would like to thank all of you for bearing with us and for keeping the reviews (although sometimes slighty threatening) pouring in. The current review status is 225 (yay) but I bet you can do better than that wink wink. Anyway… this story is far from over, so you just have to keep faith and hang in there, even though the updates don't come as quickly as we all would like them to come… So review… it would be such a nice birthday present from the lot of you for my birthday the 15th of December… (was that a subtle enough hint for y'all??) wide grin_**

**E/n: Terribly sorry me lovelies … I got the last two chapters out quickly because I had the time then and knew that I wouldn't have much time to edit for DuTchess since I've been really swamped with work, exams, studying, and also my concert which was last Thursday. We even had to split this chapter so that you wouldn't be without a chapter for Hades only know how long. **

**Always know that there is a reason for long delays – usually school-related – and that DuTchess and I haven't deserted you. ;) Hope ye like the new chapter and leave a review to let DuTchess and I know what ye think. They really are addicting ye know! Ta luvs!**

_"**To succeed, jump as quickly at opportunities as you do at conclusions."**_

**_- Benjamin Franklin -_**

Chapter 21

**Taking opportunities **

Devon had stopped to look down her precious Bullet, who was currently quite busy sculpting a very artistic form out of his own faeces right in front of a small formation of bushes on their left. When finished, the bulldog looked once at the damping sculpture before he covered it with sand and dust. Then it shook itself firmly and glanced up at Devon, as though he were looking for praise of his accomplishment. Devon acquiesced as she smiled and patted her dog lovingly on its side.

'I really don't see why ye couldn't have left th' bloody dog wit' Will 'n Liz. It'll only be a burd'n ta us ye know. Jus' havin' it poopin' like tha' costs us precious time an' not ta mention how it draws attention all th' bloody time…' Jack spoke agitated, while his eyes scanned the ships that were docked in Port Royal's harbour.

Devon didn't respond. Maybe he was right, but she couldn't leave the one thing she cared for most behind. Although she was certain Elisabeth could have taken very good care of Bullet, perhaps even more than she did sometimes, but she couldn't leave Bullet. If she had let her dog stay with the Turners it would never be in danger, _Tho' th' donkey prob'ly would be, _she thought with a smirk. But she knew she would never do it. Bullet belonged to her and he belonged with her. Fate had brought them together in the first place, and it only seemed right that fate would be the one to decide when she and her dog would part again.

Jack nudged Devon's side and pointed to a large vessel on their left and Devon was abruptly shaken from her thoughts to look towards the vessel in question.

'Too big, loaded wit' cargo; therefore too heavy fer what we need…' she stated matter-of-factly while her eyes searched for a more suitable ship.

Jack raised one eyebrow at her. 'An' jus' what makes ye th' expert on th' subject?' he snapped. He happened to be her superior, and as a Captain, if he thought that this particular vessel would do just fine then he'd be damned to have her tell him otherwise.

Devon pointed her finger in the direction of the docks where men were bringing large crates aboard. They would never get her out of the harbour by themselves, Jack had to admit she was right, but he would rather eat his beloved hat then admit to something like that. So he decided to do something much sneakier and just pretend that he had seen it all along.

'Ah. Good eye, lass. I was jus' testin' yer knowledge an' perception ye know,' he stated while flatly waving his ringed index finger under her nostrils.

Devon smiled and glanced at the antics of the man she had been in a wild war with just the night before. '_Were_ ye now… Now ye see I could've sworn tha' ye'd wanted ta board 'er…' she casually bit on her nail, while glancing over at him to gauge the reaction.

Jack mumbled something in return in Spanish if she was not mistaken, but she wasn't too concerned at the moment.

She narrowed her eyes and scanned the harbour as she looked through her long eyelashes.

'Sparrow?'

'What's it now?' he sighed while he kept looking for a suitable vessel to… _borrow_.

'What say ye to givin' Norrington a lil' payback? I think it'd be most interestin' since he ain't jus' a poor loser but a lousy lover as well…' she sneered.

Jack's eyes widened at that statement, 'Lover? Ye mean ta tell me ye slept wit' …Norrington?'

She shrugged her shoulders, '_Former_ lover, Sparrow. An' quite th' lousy lover at tha'. Th' "stiff upper-lip" managed ta turn ta putty in me hands due ta me charms naturally… But 'sides tha', 'e was jus' a Lieutenant, no wig back then. 'E was also surprisingly funny back then too. Seems tha' th' white wig o' his drained all th' humour out o' 'im. Tha' an' I had ta get out o' there _somehow_… so I jus' did wha' I'm incredibly talented at, seduction…' As her narrative trailed off an incubus grin twisted her lips.

'That's how ye escaped him?' he said with a smile on his face. 'Can't believe 'e fell fer tha'. I pictured 'im as quite th' noble guy, who would ne'er fall for th' likes o' ye. How'd ye manage tha'?'

'I 'ave me ways… Tho' I vaguely remember sayin' somethin' along th' lines of, 'I've crushed seventeen men's skulls b'tween me thighs! Wanna 'ave a closer look?' An' I made 'im more incline t'agree when I gave 'im a push in th' right direction. I can be very persistent when I need ta get what I want,' she smirked, amusement glistening in her eyes.

Jack didn't know whether he should take that seriously and assumed she was lying, but there was something in her eyes made him uncertain…

'So 'ow 'bout it, Capt'n?'

''Ow 'bout wha' tart?' He said, deeply amazed and confused by the things she had just said.

'Do we give 'im a nice farewell gift, or would ye rather we _take_ a nice farewell gift? An' th' name's just too perfect…'

'Wha' name?' he said, now slightly agitated since she couldn't just tell him what she meant and let him get back to looking for a proper ship for them to take out of this retched place. When she didn't answer, he followed her gaze and found the _HMS Liberty_ slightly swaying in the waterfront. It was a ship similar to the _HMS Interceptor_ that he had… borrowed years prior, only smaller. Just by studying the ship's structure for a few moments, he could tell she was fast. Not as fast as his Pearl, but it would have to do. _In fact, _he thought,_ it would do very nicely indeed._

He considered the idea as he stroked his moustache, 'Alright Duville, let's do it,' he said, while he grabbed her hand and began to drag her towards the docks.

'What? Ye mean righ' 'ere an' now Sparrow?' Devon asked mockingly with raised eyebrows. 'Now as temptin' as tha' sounds, dear Capt'n, we don't 'ave any o' our precious time ta waste on givin' in ta these dirty urges o' yers. We've got a ship ta commandeer after all.'

Jack rolled his eyes at the frolics of the cocky woman in front of him and proceeded to pull her along towards the docks where the _HMS Liberty_ was on the verge of sailing off without them. She unleashed Bullet and instantly made to stroll up the gangplank. Jack stopped her mid-stride and attempted to yank her back by a strap of leather on the back of her vest. 'Are ye _daft_, woman?'

'Seems tha' way. 'Sides, I be jus' as daft as ye! Now come on!' she snapped over her shoulder while she drew both her pistols.

Jack shook his head good-naturedly but jumped on board after the vixen nonetheless, with Bullet following closely behind the pair. As if by instinct, Jack pulled his hat further down over his eyes so that it would shade his face a little and drew his pistols. While Gillette was on the poopdeck shouting orders to his men, the pirate duo crept stealthily aboard and hid behind several barrels on the maindeck. The duo had not even gotten settled behind the barrels when the gangplank was pulled in and the anchor was lifted. Devon couldn't help but think why exactly it was that none of the naval officers had noticed them by now. In the end she gave up trying to understand and just blamed it on their stupidity. Just as she was about to confront Jack with the question, the devil simply stood up and began making his way towards the redcoats. This left Devon with no other choice than to cover his back, which, all in all, wasn't a very horrible task, considering the fact that she had quite a view. _Focus on yer opponent, Dee, not on th' pirate booty._

'Ev'ry body stay calm, we are takin' over th' ship!' Jack shouted in his deep melodic voice.

Once again, Gillette found himself staring in the barrel of Jack Sparrow's gun after hearing this particular threat for the second time. Only this time he wasn't accompanied by an inexperienced pirate-blacksmith, who shouted 'Avast!' afterwards, but a very crafty female that currently stood beside his old enemy.

'It's you two!' Gillette snarled and all the men on deck stared in their direction.

'Aye, us two. Now why don't ye be a good lil' Lieutenant an' go fer a nice lil' swim Gillesy,' Devon purred, while she unlocked the safety one pistol at a time. The sound of the clicks could be heard all over the ship, because it seemed that all of the lobsters had gone and lost their tongues.

After a brief silence, Gillette spoke up. 'This ship is too big for two men to sail, let alone a man and a _woman_. You two won't be going anywhere but back to the noose.'

Jack stepped closer and raised his gun to point directly at the tip of the Lieutenant's nose 'We beg ta differ, Gillesyboy.' And with one swift movement he kicked Gillette's legs from under him. And Gillette fell down, very ungraciously. The other men ran forward, drawing their rifles on the two pirates.

Devon's blue eyes gleamed as she glanced over at her partner. 'Look, Sparrow, th' toy soldiers wanna play…'

One of the men fired a shot at Devon and she had been caught off guard, but at least Jack had enough sense to shove her out of the line of fire. _Damnit, tha' was close,_ she thought.

Devon looked at her dog and smiled quite wickedly, 'Go fetch, darling.' Then she glanced at Jack, her smile softening a bit as she whispered a silent "thank you". He smiled in return.

Bullet groaned viciously and its white fangs glistened in the midday sun. And before the officer who shot at Devon could blink his grey eyes, Bullet had his fangs fixed into his buttocks.

'Ye know what they say 'bout bulldogs, right?' Devon drawled, immediately back in her element as he yelped in pain. 'When they attack…' she paused for a moment, tapping her index finger on her chin, 'they ne'er let go.'

The man's eyes seemed to pop out of his skull while he whimpered at the comment and from the pain. Devon's throaty laugh filled the air. 'Get it off of me!! Get it off I tell ye!!!'

Devon grinned wickedly, 'Sorry mate, no can do.'

During the spectacle, Jack had managed to disarm Gillette and now he raised his voice.

'Look 'ere, there now is eleven o' ye left. The Dragon Lady 'ere can surely take out five men, an' I can take six –' he heard Devon clear her throat and rectified the statement quickly, '– or she can take six an' I can take five. But tha' don't matter, 'cause th' point is tha' ye can either abandon this vessel by yer own free will, or ye can stay an' end up as Duville's loveslave.'

Again a throaty laugh caught the wind. 'Thought we wanted 'em _off_ th' damn ship, _Captain_, not make 'em eager ta stay,' Devon stated, while she stepped over the crippled form of Gillette.

'Dear ladies, wha' th' Captain here be tryin' ta say is this: this is where our ways part. We can do this th' easy way, or ye can make us do it th' 'ard way. Your choice – would ye rather be dead or wet?' she queried as she mocked a weighing scale with one gun in each hand. 'It be yer call, mates.'

Jack smirked while he glanced at the bulldog that still hung from one of the men's backside. _Hmmm, maybe it can be handy ta 'ave a dog 'round…_

The lobsters glanced back at the two pirates and then talked over the threat amongst themselves in hushed tones. Jack took the opportunity to join Devon on the other side of the deck, which just happened to be a perfect spot to listen in on the lobsters' conversation from.

One of the men spoke to his mates, 'She's the best shot in the whole Spanish Main, I heard the Commodore say so myself,' while he glanced over in the direction of the mad piratess. When she gave him a deadly glare, and raised one of her silver pistols just another inch, he immediately dropped his weapon.

Devon grinned. 'This is true, very true in fact. But ye seem ta be fergettin' 'bout me partner in crime, Captain Jack Sparrow. He be th' best swordfighter alive,' and with that she winked at Jack. _Reputations are SO bloody convenient sometimes…_

With that the remaining rifles fell down on the spotless wood of the maindeck. Jack then approached Gillette, hoisted him over his shoulder and simply tossed him overboard.

Devon grinned and hollered, 'Go Fetch!' to the other men. When Bullet released its fangs from the flesh they were digging in and ran over to the railing, the poor man that he was attached to whimpered again in relief but nearly screamed when Devon came towards him. But it turned out that he didn't need to carry on since she was merely rushing after Bullet to keep him from going after Gillette, and pulled him back by the collar.

She shook her head, 'Not you luv, mommy meant th' other dogs.'

While Gillette shouted for help, the other men didn't move a muscle to follow their superior into the cool water.

Jack sighed and glanced over to Devon, she returned his gaze and again, that one look was enough for Devon to know what he was asking her.

'Ladies, th' Capt'n 'ere be feelin' a bit suffocated by th' vast amount o' red on this 'ere deck. Now what I'm gonna do is count ta ten an' then I'm gonna pull me trigger here. No – wait, I fergot tha' I can't count ta ten! Guess I'm too stupid fer tha'… I can, however, count ta _one_…' and with that she shot a perfect hole in one of the officer's hats. The man's face grew as pale as a sheet. It took him a moment to register that a bullet just a hair's breath away from his head and once he did he shouted from shock and jumped overboard, the same thing his hat had obviously done a second prior to its owner's jump. Devon's laughter rang out over the ship and the sound reminded Jack of brass bells. She stepped forward, and the men, who hadn't moved an inch since their one-sided conversation, shuffled backwards. 'Oops!' Devon stated innocently while she batted her lashes, 'It appears tha' me finger slipped! Silly me, now where was I?' she looked at Jack.

Jack winked at her and said, 'One, luv.'

'Ah yes… one…' and she pulled the trigger of her favourite silver pistol and fired an other shot, this one whizzed directly past a white wig before the man wearing the wig, flew overboard as well.

One man appeared to have gotten his tongue and spine back and whispered, 'She missed!' relief showing evidently on his face.

'_She_ did not miss. _She_ never misses unless it be on purpose. _She_ was jus' warning ye, ye lit'le twit. Now, please jump off, before _she'll _be forced ta shoot ye next time.' Devon stated, tucking one pistol between her thighs and swiftly reloading the other.

'Hmmm, ye be bold lil' ladies, aye? So I guess tha' means yer not at all intimidated by me?' Devon said slowly while she strolled along the row of men.

None of them spoke, the only thing they did was glance at each other and wonder what she would try next.

She turned and winked at Sparrow, who watched the show that was going on with a devilish smirk. She was rash, she was bold, she was witty and she was daring. In an odd way, she was so much like him. Besides that, there really was no need for him to interfere this time, since she seemed to be managing just fine with him watching her from the background.

Devon placed her hands on her hips, giving the men one of her cockiest smiles, while she spread her legs a bit, 'I like tough men,' she said while she licked her lips.

She slowly walked up to one of the officers, pressed her body against his, held the barrel of one of her guns under his chin and stated, 'An' I really like you. Pants down! Now!'

'W-w-what?' he stuttered.

'Pants down. Now!'

'B-b-but why?'

'Come on now mate, in order fer me ta 'ave my filthy way wit' ye, ye ought ta loose th' pants,' she quipped, clearly amused by the confusion she had caused.

His eyes seemed to grow wider and wider with every word she spoke and he looked at Sparrow.

Duville followed his gaze and snorted. 'Ah, don't mind th' Capt'n, lad. 'E won't be offended… jealous maybe…' Jack snorted loudly. 'As I said, jealous maybe, but 'e won't be offended… now loose them breeches laddie an' let me work me magic,' she licked her lips and eyed him.

She stepped even closer to the redcoat and she tucked her barkers away for a moment. She quickly took out her small dagger and cut through the fabric of his breeches, revealing a part of his white knickers.

'Now that's rather disappointin' mate,' she said while she looked down, 'Most men I meet can't wait ta bed me, an' here ye 'ave th' chance an' yet ye let me down, quite literally as well……' she shook her head in mock displeasure and gave a dramatic sigh.

Devon pressed the tip of her knife slightly in the gap she had created and the man bit his lip, while his eyes began to water from the pressure of the knife. All the men watched in horror as a tiny stain of crimson started to form where the silver tip was pressing on the man's white undergarment, but when a yellowish fluid started to drip down onto the main deck Jack Sparrow just couldn't contain his laughter.

Devon looked at the navy officer in front of her, while she allowed her eyes to travel all over his attire. 'Quite the stallion, eh? Maybe I should just slash it off, since it seems tha' ye don't know 'ow ta woo a lady wit' it anyhow.'

That was the last thing she needed to say as one by one the men jumped overboard, swimming to safety.

Risking the shark bites and jellyfish stings was less scary in their opinion than being around Devon Duville at that moment.

When the last one fled she tucked her knife back in her belt, before she went to adjust some of the ropes on the sails. The Caribbean wind tugged at the crisp white sails above her and they were on their way. Dee made her way over to the railing and glanced over, seeing red spots swimming to shore, she sighed, 'They're really not much fun.'

**A/N II: It is an unwritten law by us authors you must leave a review after reading this chapter and the ones to follow. Hell, I've just written it down, now it's your turn!! wink wink**

**Yours truly,**

**The DuTchess of Doom**

(or Spawn of Satan to close friends like yourselves!)


	22. Cheers to Liberty

**_A note from the author: Believe it or not, me hearties, I had a wicked amount of fun writing this chapter. Especially writing the "creative Devon scene" which takes place somewhere in this chapter. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had making it up. No matter how hard I try to follow the plotline I've created, it seems Jack and Devon, the latter in particular, have a will of their own. They make me write stuff I never intended, but to me it seems, they trigger my thoughts in a spectacular way… And after my dear friend Linthilde lets her mind flow over the things I've written it turns out even better than I thought possible! Muchos kudos to her! Now I shall leave room for her note's, and after you've read that….. read & review please! Reading your opinion makes me high… they're very addictive… wink wink_**

**E/n: Sorry it took me so long to get this back to the Darling Dutchess me lovelies, but I'm home now maybe I'll continue to get the inspiration I got last night and get the next chapter edited quickly as a nice little present for you all. ;) No quotes today, but do review, we thrive off them!**

"_The average man's love of liberty is nine-tenths imaginary. _

_It takes a special sort of man to understand and enjoy liberty – and he _

_is usually an outlaw in democratic societies"_

_**-H.L. Mencken- **_

Chapter 22

** Cheers to Liberty**

As Devon climbed the rigging to adjust the sails, the warm breeze tugged at her locks and Jack just couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the gorgeous view. It was the simple things: the way she climbed the ropes so gracefully and nimbly as if she was weightless, the elegant way her body moved and twisted as she climbed, and the way the muscles in her arms tensed as she lifted herself upon the mast. These things made Jack hold the pegs of his wheel even tighter, while he gazed up at her. She was so gracious and limber he couldn't stand it sometimes.

As if she felt the presence of his eyes on her, she swung herself over to the other side of the rigging and looked at him. A soft smile formed on her lips as she locked eyes with him for a moment. He barely noticed that the bruises on her face had faded, and all she was left with was a slight yellowish colour on her cheek and her brow. She averted her eyes after a moment and turned them back to the ropes. She began to work and tried to concentrate hard on them so that she wouldn't have to look back up at him. Even though she was looking at him, Jack could see the frown that was gracing her face.

Devon's hands worked flawlessly without her concentration, so her mind wandered, and soon she was lost in thought. She was well-aware of the fact that last night she had totally contradicted herself. Lust had completely taken over both her body and mind, and even though she was used to that sensation, this was different. That night she hadn't made war like she did with any other man. Making war with Jack Sparrow was a completely new feeling, deeply intense and highly addictive.

In fact, she was beginning to believe that she had truly made _love_, with just a hint of war in it. Jack Sparrow was a man unlike any other. Not only was he just as talented and experienced as she was, but he was probably even more experienced because he had managed to surprise_ her_ with several new positions and tricks, and that was truly saying something… No man she knew had ever beaten Devon in originality with erogenous experiments, but she had to admit that Jack's perverted actions had amazed her in more ways then one.

And now while she was on her perch high above him, she dutifully carried out her tasks, but in reality she was tearing herself apart on the inside. In her mind she knew she hated him with the power of a thousand suns. But if she truly hated him to that degree, then why had she enjoyed their little romp and everything that went with it so thoroughly? If the only true feelings Devon felt for the flamboyant pirate Captain were anger and hatred, then why the bloody hell had she climaxed that often and in such a breathtaking way? Her orgasms had never been that intense before. It was as if her body and mind had been filled with a nearly overwhelming explosion of passionate bliss. And it wasn't only that, the sheer power behind them had left her breathless, trembling like an autumn leaf just before the fall. She found herself wanting more, needing more. It had felt so good it hurt. Even she herself couldn't have done the job better. Jack's lovemaking was absolutely thrilling.

Devon had begged him for more, and more she had gotten. He had pleaded her never to stop and she had gladly inclined to his requests. Last night they had worked together like a well oiled love making machine. They had made an art out of the act, making a point to lift the other to a higher level of ecstasy. Jack Sparrow had made her feel _complete._ And that was a feeling that Devon had never experienced before. _Is it tha' yer finally admittin' tha' yer heart's involved when it comes ta him? Ye know it's true, cuz ye know ye've ne'er felt my presence b'fore, but now ye feel it quite well. Ye feel it an' it scares th' shit out o' ye!_

Devon gulped, for she knew the voice she heard inside her head was right. But at least now she knew it hadn't been her mind that was betraying her, the one poisoning her with words she did _not_ want to hear. It was her heart, and it had been right all along.

_Oh My God, 'ave I really fallen in love wit' 'im?!_ She bit her lip in quiet frustration as she glanced down to the helm. A whirlwind of emotions raged inside of her when she saw him, and Devon realised it was undeniable. She had! This of course meant war … her heart was right, this she knew, but she didn't intend to go down without a fight.

To love someone would make you weak, and the presence of that love would make you vulnerable and frail. One of the major problems with love is that the one you love could be taken away from you, and that can be especially dangerous when you are in a trade like the one Devon and Jack were in. Another factor is that your loved one could be used as leverage against you, for blackmail or something even worse. But most importantly, love caused a mind cloud. It clutters the brain and causes general malfunction of the whole human psyche. Many years ago, Devon had learned these things the hard way and ever since then she made a promise to herself never to love again.

Just the love she had for her dog, Bullet, had gotten her into more trouble than she bargained for. The only other things she loved before this were the ocean and freedom, but those two things wouldn't cause any trouble, well, nothing more than she couldn't handle. But loving Jack? Now, that was downright dangerous… It was bad, not only because if he ever found out he would certainly give her hell for it, but if the feelings she felt were in fact mutual, which was highly unlikely, it would be an extremely dangerous position for the two of them to be in. For if that were the case, Devon figured it would be easier to just take out her cutlass, place it blade up in a crack of this here deck and let herself fall into it. For a pirate to love was mere suicide. But for a pirate to love another pirate, and a Captain to boot… well, she didn't even want to think about the consequences that would come from that situation.

At this point poor Devon was more confused than a hungry mouse in a maze of cheese walls… so to fix the problem she made a pact with her traitorous heart. She would fight these feelings with all her strength and will power, but if by some miracle, Jack felt the same way for her, the deal could be re-negotiated. But for the moment, Devon knew that the best way to banish Captain Jack Sparrow from her mind would be to get rid of him, but since that wasn't an option, there was only one thing she could think of and that was just to avoid temptation.

Of course, that might just be the hardest thing to do when she was this close to the flame. Particularly since their little romp at the Turner's had proven to be much more than just a little romp to her. This made her even more determined to stick to her own rule. Now even more then ever she needed her great will power, since she had to avoid the source of the conflict at all costs.

The "never sleep with the same man twice" rule had to be followed and obeyed. When she spotted two birds playfully flying around and teasing each other in front of her, she just turned her head. She didn't care if it was an omen, as far as she was concerned she never saw it. She would ignore it just like she would ignore the yearning hunger inside of her. It had never been hard to follow her rules of engagement before, so why should it be so difficult this time? Absentmindedly her eyes were drawn towards the helm again and Devon couldn't help but curse when she saw the handsome and flamboyant Pirate Captain stare back at her.

'DAMN! BY LUCIFER'S DRIPPIN' RED COCK, THIS IS GONNA BE SO BLEEDIN' HARD!'

'What's gonna be hard, tart?' Jack shouted up to her.

_Oh dear sweet Lord, did I just say that out loud?!?!?!?_

'Erm… jus' meant tha' gettin' sloshed on this 'ere ship's gonna be bloody hard, innit? Jus' th' two o' us an' all… ' she shouted back flatly, passionately hoping she hadn't said all of her thoughts out loud yet again. She remembered how Drake had caught her rambling under her breath before. And if Sparrow could make out her words from this distance… well, that was not good.

_Disturbin' is wha' it is… Very disturbin'…_

Devon looked down at the helm from the corner of her eye again and found that Jack was still staring at her. She smiled, ignoring her prior troubles, and decided it would be nice to give him a taste of what she was made of. She grabbed hold of the rope and swung down to the deck, unfortunately she had forgotten that landing gracefully wasn't one of her strengths. So, naturally, Devon landed very clumsily and fell flat on her back. 'Damnit! One would think tha' after all this time, I'd learn ta get th' damned thing right!' she scolded herself.

Jack couldn't help but burst out into laughter as he watched her get up. He laughed so hard that tears ran down his face, leaving black traces on his tan skin. 'I've seen sprogs tha' can land better than ye do, Duville. Tho' I must admit, it's nice ta see tha' ye finally _fell_ fer me,' he said in between hiccups of laughter. _An' ta think tha' just a few moments ago I thought she be all limber an' gracious. _That thought triggered another snigger from his throat.

Devon was about to tell him that he could go shove a sprog up his arse, but somehow the picture of him just standing there laughing with his dark eyes sparkling and black rivers of tears marking his face sparked her own laughter as well. She burst into laughter while she sashayed her way over to the helm, rubbing her sore back gently.

'I s'pose I can be a bit clumsy sometimes…' she gasped while she held onto the railing, regaining her breath.

'An' here I thought it was me masculine appearance tha' was th' reason fer yer struggle wit' gravity,' Jack teased.

'Don' flatter yerself Sparrow, this 'appens ta me all th' time,' Devon replied, immediately cursing herself for admitting _and_ confirming her clumsiness to him. 'I mean, not _all_ th' time, but sometimes… even when ye're not 'round, so… O' blast it all, can we jus' drop th' bloody subject?'

'Don' worry luv, me thinks yer better off yer feet anyways,' he said with a wink.

With that one small gesture, Devon Duville experienced something that hardly ever happened to her: she blushed. She could feel it like a warm glow that slid down her face from her temples along her neck and down her cleavage.

Jack of course noticed her flushed cheeks and found it surprisingly arousing. It gave her a sense of weakness, a bit of girlishness amidst the tough appearance she usually had.

_Good God, Dee, pull yerself together. Yer th' Queen o' sexual innuendos yerself, don't go actin' like a youngster when 'e pulls a lil stunt like tha'. _But in spite of her chiding, that blasted blush just wouldn't budge, and if it was even possible she felt it spreading and glowing even more. Devon couldn't bare the embarrassment and turned on her heel to flee from Jack's infuriating eyes. _'E's gonna make fun o' me … I know I would. Damned feelin's!!!_

'Duville?'

_Damn it all ta bloody Hell, 'ere we go… let th' mockin' begin._

'What?!?', she snapped, her back still turned to him, knowing he would say something that would earn him a major whoop-ass, if she could just get her cursed cheeks to calm.

'Ye look really sweet when ye blush, ye know luv,' he said softly.

Devon raised her eyebrows, and just barely caught her jaw before it dropped open most ungraciously. He _had_ to be mocking her… he _was_ mocking her, right??

All the mixed emotions she felt over this man tore through her body once more. She didn't quite know how to respond to that, so she just walked away instead of saying anything that might embarrass her further.

Jack growled while he flipped open his compass, _'Mental note: never give th' wench a compliment ever again.'_

A little while later, when she finally had regained control over her cheeks again, Dee casually made her way back to the helm. When she was halfway there she changed course and went to lean on the railing to enjoy the spray of the sea in her face and the feel of the winds of change upon her. Devon sniffed in the salty air and felt the freedom of the sea wash over her. This was why she had become pirate in the very beginning, not for the gold, not for the fame, but for the freedom. Free to go wherever the Hell she wanted to go, free to do whatever the Hell her heart desired and seize every given opportunity. There were no barriers on the water, no frontiers and no borderlines. Devon simply loved the way water rippled when the ship caressed its surface. _This_ was freedom. Naturally after a few years at sea, she enjoyed the fame and treasure as well, just as any other proper pirate. Just while she was getting more and more calmed by the lapping water, she was brutally broken from her reverie.

'Oy Duville!!!' Jack shouted from behind her. 'Where does The Hazard make berth?'

_An' tha' voice is heaven…_ she mused when she glanced over her shoulder to meet Jack's dark mysterious orbs.

'Bermuda,' she said simply, while she sauntered over to the helm. He stood there holding the wheel with one hand and studying an old weather-beaten compass that was in the other. A touch of remorse showed on his face. Jack's place was indeed to be behind the helm, to grasp the wheel and caress it passionately. But it was not at _this_ helm, not on _this_ ship. The _HMS Liberty_ was a fine ship, to be sure, but not _his _ship, not his Pearl. And Jack couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he was cheating on his wonderful ship.

Devon couldn't quite place the expression on Jack's face and she had the feeling he hadn't even heard her answer, since it seemed that he was off in his own little world for the moment. 'Bermuda,' she repeated to draw him from his reverie, while poking him in the ribs 'Drake makes berth in Bermuda… but why do ye ask? Thought we'd be plannin' ta get yer Pearl back firs'?' she said, her face inches away from his.

Jack's eyes met hers once more and finally he responded, 'Then we'll be off ta Tortuga first, where we get me Pearl, 'ave a few drinks an' a bit o' fun b'fore I drop ye off in Bermuda, like th' gracious gentleman I am.'

Devon smiled and placed her hand over his ever so gently and let her fingers slide between his. 'Thanks Jack, I realise I ne'er did thank ye fer what ye've done fer me…'

He snapped his compass closed and let it casually slide back in to his pocket. Then he took her hand in his free hand and placed a soft kiss on it. 'Always a pleasure ta help a …' he glanced her form up and down and decided that "damsel" wasn't really a word that would fit this particular woman, so he smirked and added, '… _devil_ in distress.'

Devon curtsied and returned his grin. 'Ye may not be th' first man in me life by far, nor th' first or th' last ta 'ave enjoyed th' intoxicatin' thrill o' fornicatin' wit' th' likes o' me, but ye be th' first man I let meself get saved by,' she stated locking her eyes steady on his. 'But don' ye be gettin' used ta tha'.'

'Don' get used ta wha' th' rescuin' or th' fornicatin'?' he said huskily, a naughty grin forming on his lips.

That comment snapped Devon back to reality and she hissed, 'Both an' ye know it! But 'specially th' fornicatin'…'

Jack's smile grew wider, 'Bermuda ye say, eh? Yer 'is type no doubt… But th' place 'e makes berth just proves me theory all th' more.'

Dee frowned and narrowed her eyes at him, 'Wha' th' fuck are ye talkin' 'bout now?'

'Drake.'

''Ow's tha'?' she asked, thinking Jack had finally lost _all_ his marbles.

'He makes berth in Bermuda, correct?'

'Aye, I've jus' told ye tha', twice as a matter o' fact… don't ye ever listen?' she retorted, still not sure what the Hell Drake had to do with any of this. Not that most of Jack's logic ever made sense to her in the first place.

'Bermuda 'appens ta 'ave a small town called Devonshire, but ye knew that, didn't ye lil' Miss Know-it-all?' he huffed.

'O'course I knew tha', ye donkeysdroppin'. Naturally it be a wonderful name fer a town an' all, but what th' Hell has tha' got ta do wit' Drake an' his supposed feelin's fer me, as I assume tha' be where yer goin' wit' this lil tangent o' yers,' she placed her hands on her hips and awaited his answer.

''E makes birth in fair Devonshire, ta honour th' woman tha' haunts 'is heart an' 'is dreams…' Jack pondered out loud, enjoying this chance to play with her mind.

'Yer dead wrong 'bout Drake mate, though I be dead sure 'bout those dreams,' Devon got that randy glint in her eyes again while she continued. 'Drake's me Capt'n and a good friend, but there be nothin' 'tween us, an' there ne'er will be.'

He shrugged his shoulders, 'If ye say so…'

'An' I do say so. Now, ye be needin' me ta do somethin' else but feed yer perverted curiosity, or can I start feedin' me own an' go see what th' Brits 'ave got hidden in their liquor cabinet?'

'Gonna search fer rum, tart?'

'Rum, gin, port, bourbon, whatever th' fuck there is ta drink 'round 'ere… Though I strongly doubt that th' wigs'll 'ave any o' th' good stuff aboard, but maybe they'll surprise us…'

'T'would be th' first time they'd achieve tha'…' Jack spoke absentmindedly, while he dug up his raggedy compass from his pocked and studied it closely.

'Sparrow?'

'Aye?'

'If I don't find anythin' improper an' indecent fer us ta drown in I'll buy ye a drink when we're in Tortuga.'

'Now I wonder, dear brazen vicious vixen, on jus' 'ow ye intend ta buy me a drink when yer broke?'

Devon's lips pulled in her trademark smile again, lopsided and downright nasty 'I – unlike ye – 'ave _breasts_ an' those, me darlin' foe, can get ye anythin'!' she quipped, turned on her heel and dashed towards the former Captain's quarters.

She searched the boring, noble, plain dressed quarters and saw the suspicious globe in the centre of the map room. She swiftly opened it and revealed several bottles of liquor and goblets. She lifted the bottles one by one to discern their contents. _Now let's see what we 'ave here…. Hmmm… Gin…. The devil's tonic…. Very nice… _She quickly picked up another bottle to inspect, _Whiskey…. colour's good, but th' taste could be better… port… oh th' horror o' this all hoity-toity stuff is gettin' ta me… I certainly won't be touchin' tha' anytime soon! Oh an' how positively original…. Wine. _

Of course Devon didn't find rum. It didn't really surprise her though. The noble Brits probably couldn't appreciate the divine and vile drink that pirates cherished. Devon chose the gin and quickly uncapped the bottle, wrapped her lips around the bottleneck, upturned it and took a long, heavenly swig of its contents.

The tingling and slight burning sensation tickled her tongue, while the flavour made her taste buds tingle and made her feel all fuzzy inside. _Sure it ain't no rum, but it'll do th' trick… _she thought as she gulped down more of the clear liquor. A part of her wanted to take the bottles up on deck, to share with Jack, but the other part, the greedy pirate inside her, wanted to get sloshed all by her onesies. Of course, getting drunk with the mysterious flamboyant bastard Captain held a certain randy potential, but at the moment, Devon's libido subsided to her desire to fill her taste buds with alcohol instead of sweat and semen. After all, it had been ages since she had anything alcoholic to drink. The only thing she had to drink since she set foot in Port Royal had been the water given to her in the Fort and the milk at the Turner's. And though milk was good for you, she had to agree with Jack… drinking dairy wasn't as much fun as drinking stuff like this.

Truth be told, Devon wasn't the gin kind of girl, but since there wasn't any rum or absinthe on board, this would have to do. She went ahead and took another big gulp and spilled some of the devil's water when it ran down the corners of her mouth and trailed down her neck. She wanted to wipe it off, but then she realised by doing that, she would have to take the bottle away from her mouth and that in itself would be such a waste of precious time… so she kept right on drinking. While she forced herself to breathe in between gulps, since that was rather important, she looked around and studied the map room. It proved to be rather boring since it held no trophies from former raids, no collection of false colours, no mystical maps that were worth studying, everything was just… plain. And in her opinion, such a hideously plain room was boring and a waste of space.

As she walked over to the windows to peer out of them and see if there was anything worthwhile outside, she swaggered and hit the globe, which _would_ have fallen down if she hadn't caught it. _There! Anyone tha' says alcohol ruins yer reaction skills is wrong! _She thought proudly. To celebrate this moment of victory she took the bottle from her lips and held it up in a mock toast to the painting of His Majesty that hung pontifically in front of her and bellowed in a stuck up British alto, 'Cheers to you your Majesty! Thank you for returning me my liberty! Or can I be so bold as to say Georgie, George?' At this point her usual drawl kicked back in as she continued, 'Ye see I ne'er were really good wit' titles 'n all, ta be blunt, which I 'appen ta like bein' as a matter o' fact, since these fancy-shmancy titles mean shit when yer in th' stark….' Then she giggled as her rant trailed off and suddenly began to search through the desk, looking for a quill or something else to draw with because she really needed to do something about that portrait. She was positively ecstatic when she found a tool to work with and almost squealed with glee.

Devon took another swig from the gin and then placed the bottle beside her on the desk while she stood on tip-toes, the tip of her tongue sticking out from between her lips. First she sketched out a very suave pair of goggles on the King and stepped back to admire her work. 'There now luv, tha' makes ye look a tad smarter, dontcha think? Ye an' I both know tha' ye don't really qual'fy as one o' them intellect-uals…' she said between giggles, 'but at least ye look the part now!'

Dee had been so engrossed in drinking the gin bottle dry and working on her creation that she had failed to notice that the Liberty had anchored a while ago, and how Jack was casually leaning in the doorframe behind her, while frantically trying to contain his laughter as he observed the scene before him.

After she finished the spectacles, Dee took a large gulp of the gin and continued her work of art. Next she drew in a large Sparrowish moustache on his pale, clean-shaven face and then gave him a small goatee to go with it. She swaggered back a bit, tilted her head a bit to the right and admired her creation once more'Hmmm, now darlin' methinks yer still quite lackin' in sex-appeal, lemme see what lil' Dee can do fer ye, aye?' Shewalked back to the abused visage of the King of Britain and gave him looped earrings that peeked out from beneath his brown wig. She bit the top of the quill while she pondered what else to do with the ugly bastard. She sighed in resignation when she realized that she couldn't give him one of her infamous tattoos since there wasn't enough bare skin to draw on. 'Now, I pride on bein' an _artiste extraordinaire_, m'dear, but I'm not a magician. No one could turn yer poor excuse fer a face inta somethin' tha' a pretty lil lass like me would actually _want_ ta look at. Ye, good Sir, are hopeless.'

Seeing how there was no way in Hell she could make George look more appealing she decided to just make him even more revolting. She grinned at the thought and proceeded to draw wraths on his cheeks and a hairy mole on his nose and just when she was about to give him a nice stitched scar on his jaw, she ran out of ink. She shook the quill wildly, but pouted when she realized there was no ink left. When she turned back around to search the desk again for more ink, something, or rather someone, interrupted her.

'Devon me darling, would ye care ta explain what it is exactly tha' ye be doin' down 'ere?' Jack inquired while he continued to chuckle at her antics.

Devon gulped and nearly dropped her quill. _God, what is he? A bloomin' ghost?! _She licked her lips and turned around, acting as though he hadn't just scared the shit out of her.

'Ah, Sparrow, I would like ta intr'duce th' new an' improved George, His _Royal_ Highness, th' King o' England,' she said in a sing-song slur, while her arms flew over to display the savaged painting.

'Seems ta me ye've jus' turned it into _quite_ th' interestin' portrait!' he said finally letting his laughter run free.

''Ow very perceptive of ye!' she hiccupped, as tears of laughter trailed down her own cheeks as well. She wiped them off with her sleeve and noticed the half full bottle of gin still on the desk, picked it up and handed it to him, ''Ere, 'ave a drink mate, dear Georgie is even prettier when ye've 'ad a bit o' Lucifer's water,' she snorted.

'No rum?' he questioned after taking a gulp.

'Nay, searched th' whole bloody stash, but couldn't find anythin' 'sides th' gin, some whiskey an' a few others tha' don't 'ave much potential wit' pirates like ourselves… Go an' take a look yerself,' she slurred, pointing a swaying finger towards the globe.

He scurried over to the globe and lifted the bottles like she had done earlier.

'Damned pigs, ev'ry Capt'n knows th' importance o' 'avin' rum 'round' he pouted.

'Methinks tha' our dear Gilesy can't hold 'is liquor, Sparrow. Drinkin' rum would be a bit too much fer th' fag,' she stated matter-of-factly while her words were strung together like beads on a chain.

'Whether _Duville_ can hold 'er liquor, is more what I'm wondering…' He baited squinting at her, placing himself in front of her.

'Ye bet tha' scrawny arse o' yers I can,' she hissed through clenched teeth, face hovering in front of his. He could smell the gin on her breath and saw the mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes.

Jack idly stroke his braided beard, and being quite the gambler himself he took the bet, taking another firm swig from the gin. 'We've got ourselves an accord, Duville!'

'Now since I 'ad a head start, I suggest ye lemme finish off tha' gin an' ye go find somethin' else ta drink… 'Ow 'bout tha' eh?' and without waiting for any acknowledgement from him that she pried his fingers from the bottle and ushered him towards the remaining bottles.

Jack contemplated for a moment, and finally picked the whiskey. He took one of the goblets as well, but then decided drinking it straight from the bottle would be much more effective, so he put it back in its chestnut container.

Devon swirled around the floor, doing a silly solo-waltz as she occasionally bumped into the chairs or desks scattered about the room. Then she danced over to Jack, who had just upturned and downed a good amount of the liquor in his bottle when she bumped into him so hard that they both fell down to the floor from the sheer force of the collision. Devon landed on top of Jack, and while the gin and whiskey bottles still remained clenched in their hands, splashes of spilt liquor surrounded them.

'Now here's an interestin' situation…' Jack said while his dark eyes darkened well past their natural colour, and a randy glint glistening in their depths, while his free hand snaked its way over to her bum.

Devon smirked down at him and placed a finger from her free hand on his well shaped lips, 'Hold that thought, Jack,' and she turned her head to the side and belched like an old man.

'Big turn-on, tart,' he said while he arched an eyebrow at her.

'Knew ye couldn't resist me…' she whispered and kissed him roughly. Tongues duelled, gin and rum blended with saliva and teeth collided. After a few moments of fervent pleasure Jack broke the kiss, trying to regain his breath and get another drink from his bottle.

Devon rolled over so she lay side by side with Jack, finished off the last of her gin, and got back on her slight unsteady feet and took him by the hand. She pulled him up and played with one of his dreads.

'Jack?' she whispered nuzzling his face.

'Hmmmm?'

'Methinks we should make ourselves a bit more comfy… don't ye agree?'

'Ye took th' words right out o' me mouth, tart,' he said gruffly as he guided her towards the Captains Quarters, stroking her back and fondling her bum. When Jack opened the doors Devon turned around, wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders and gently kissed the hollow of his throat. By the movement of his Adams apple she knew he had to swallow hard. Devon took his hands in hers and pulled him towards the mahogany bed, while single-handedly unbuckling his belt in the process.

Jack grinned and a randy glint shimmered in his near-black eyes. 'Devon me darlin', wha' was tha' thing ye said 'bouts th' fornicatin' 'again?'

'Can't recall correctly, Jack….' she said hoarsely while she bit on his bottom lip. 'An' at th' moment,' her tongue slipping inside of his lips as a little tease before she continued, 'I be too horny an' tipsy ta really give a damn.'

Jack couldn't have agreed more…

* * *

Thesaurus :

Sprog: young inexperienced sailor.

Another note from the author:

I know you had to wait a long time to finally read about J & D's adventures, so I really hope it was worth the wait. Lemme know what you think and leave a review! That would be übercool of you!

And… stay tuned to find out what goes on behind those cabin-doors…. In the next chapter!

And , Thanx again for sticking with us!

Love,

The DuTches of Doom

( & of course my lovely BETA/FRIEND Linthilde)!


	23. Breaking the Rules

**E/n: Now lovelies, ye know that both DuTchess and I love this story, and we know you love it as well, but there's only so much time I have (even on my bleedin' vacation) to devote to any one thing. I like to take my time with the story and try to make the language, wording, structure, and all that good stuff the flow and fit together the best that I possibly can. I'm a perfectionist. I know sometimes other things get in the way, but trust that I take my time because I want you all to love everything we write for you. Thanks again and sorry you had to sit through that little rant. Read and enjoy! Xoxo Linnie **

"_Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. _

_The most any of us can do, _

_is sign on as its accomplice_."

Tom Watson

Chapter 23

**Breaking the rules **

'You, Mr. Sparrow,' she purred in her usual drawl, save for the fact that her voice was husky from her prior intense climax, while she poked him gently in his naked and heaving chest, ''Ave made me break me own damned rule.' Each breath Devon took was slightly laboured and the sweat that covered her skin shone golden in the lamplight. Little pearls of sweat caught the flickering light even with her slightest movement.

Jack smiled and pulled her closer to him, while his hands slid over her damp body, both eager and determined to continue their previous activities. His red tongue lapped across the bridge of her nose, across her face, and trailed down to lick the corner of her mouth. He could taste the salt of her perspiration on his tongue and if that wasn't enough to arouse him, she also smelled dirtily divine. Oh yes, Captain Jack Sparrow was up for seconds! Or in this case… thirds! He was still inebriated from the feelings she had given him more than once that night, therefore he decided that he might just forgive her for not addressing him as Captain this time. Jack looked over at her, about to question just what she meant by that statement, when he found that his eyes were automatically drawn to those deep mysterious orbs of hers and that the elusive sparkle he saw intrigued him. It was that sparkle that made him determined to find out what secrets and obscurities lay within their depths. After almost losing himself in her eyes, he realised he still had yet to ask her about that most interesting statement she made moments ago, 'How's that luv?' he said with a deep and raspy voice, while he gently moved a moist curl off of her face, 'Wha' rule might tha' be?'

Devon shoved herself up in the Captain's bed a bit, so she could lean on the headboard. She knew that she would need the support of the hard wood to be able to confess her self-made pact to him. 'Well, it jus' so 'appens tha' it be th' only rule I've ne'er broken….. until now tha' is,' she said hoarsely while she let her eager fingers glide over his muscular torso again, caressing the scars and designs that adorned his tan skin, then following his gorgeous physique lower towards the curly shrub between his legs. She smiled when she saw that the sensation her digits caused made him swallow for a moment and how that darling frown of his shoved the bandana he still wore just the slightest bit upwards.

He brushed his right thumb across her lips, smiled back at her, and spoke, 'Are ye gonna tell me wha' tha' rule is, dear, or are ye gonna talk in riddles fer th' rest o' th' nigh'? O'course I wouldn't exactly mind if ye kept tha' mouth o' yers shut fer a change, or better yet, keepin' it shut by havin' it wrapped aroun' me stallion shaft. Then ye could use tha' sharp an' delicious tongue o' yers fer other – noble – causes.' A very taunting grin graced his features after that little comment, which caused Devon to smirk back, but then he just ruined the moment and rambled on, 'Cause ye know, ye really 'ave a talent fer tha'… not sayin' tha' yer other bedroom talents can be ignored 'n all. But just tellin' ye tha' ye can do whatever yer body desires luv, right now mine be suggestin' tha' I just lay back fer a bit…' he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and put his hands behind his head, getting quite comfortable.

'I have ne'er slept wit' th' same man twice,' she stated bluntly. She got up onto her hands and knees to look at his surprised face. She then used her position to prowl like a cat over to him and straddled his hips. 'Tha' be th' rule I made fer meself, th' pact I made wit' meself an' very likely th' only one I intended an' pledged ne'er ta break.'

'Rules are meant ta be broken luv,' he stated while he traced her collarbone with his index finger. 'Ye as a fellow pirate should know tha' well… an' I feel it be my duty ta remind ye o' this 'cause I happen ta be an expert on th' subject,' he said with an ear-to-ear smile.

Devon glanced down on the sexy Captain that was beneath her again and felt him place his skilled and rough hands on her hips, while his eyes never lost track of hers.

'Hmmm, it seems tha' th' Capt'n be rather proud o' 'imself, isn't 'e?' she whispered as she leaned down to nuzzle his face. The tip of her tongue flicked teasingly across his face and caused him to shiver when she breathed lightly over him.

Damn straight Jack was gloating! Not only because she had actually addressed him as Captain without any pressure from his side, but he really _was_ proud of himself when he learned that he had made her break her own rule. For Jack knew that pirates gave a rats ass about the rules of others, but the rules they set for themselves were not intended to be broken – ever. When that thought struck him, he proceeded to gloat even more. 'Actually I be damned proud! Proud, but jus' not surprised, tart … 'cause ye see, no woman can resist me masculinity, me captivatin' charisma,' he stated matter-of-factly, while he planted a feather light kiss on the corner of her mouth. 'Not even a stubborn, cocky one like yerself. But now tha' we've got tha' out o' th' way, what be th' reward I get?'

She raised an eyebrow, lifting herself back up so that she could see his handsome face better. 'Reward! Reward say ye?' a randy glint forming in her indigo eyes.

'Aye, a reward. Fer makin' ye break tha' rule o' yers. Ye know wha' I be talkin' 'bout, give ol' Jack a lil' somethin' fer 'is efforts,' he said, while he held her tighter and pulled her forward. 'Cause ye know I did some bloody hard work ta get ye ta-…"

Devon smiled, but she cut him off instantly, twisting his arm away from her hips, 'Oh, I don' think ye quite understand, ye lil' pisser. There be no reward... ye'll be punished fer yer crimes,' she said seductively while she clenched his waist between her strong legs and effectively pinned his hands to the soft mattress. A wicked smile curled her full lips, 'And as a suitable punishment I hereby claim ev'ry inch o' tha' scrawny body o' yers', she said and immediately pressed her thighs even further together, giving him a discomforting but very erotic pain.

Jack desperately wished she would move just a little so that her sex would be closer to his, but it seemed that the more he struggled, the more determined Devon was to take charge. He had no choice but to surrender, not that he cared all that much since he knew he would enjoy every moment of her "torment" thoroughly.

He had to swallow hard when he felt her dampness on his lower pelvis again, this was the second night in a row Jack had felt their bodies reacting to one another's and he had to admit that was enjoying her company more and more with each sunset. The erotic electricity between the two of them was undeniable, and even though Jack was an experienced man, the art of lovemaking was so much more exiting when the partner you had was another artist. And was moving with you so damned well and doing it out of other motives than to make quick money as a whore would do. He wasn't sure why Devon was with him at first, perhaps because she wanted to, or even needed to. But whatever the reason, he knew that she enjoyed it just as much as he did. The way her anger would radiate in her eyes and the way she made love had shown him she was very passionate and had a zest for life. That, in his opinion, was a definite plus in a pirate and even more so in a woman. He contemplated the possibilities of this while he let his bejewelled hands slide from her hips to her chest, cupping her firm breasts. God, it felt so damn good having her close to him…

Devon was the most passionate and trained woman he had ever shared a bed with. Well not just a bed to be perfectly honest. If he could remember them all correctly it was a bed, a chair, a floor, a wall, a windowsill, a doorpost and a staircase… A mischievous smile formed on his face as he remembered the night at the Turners. They had used that night together to the fullest and he could recall every moment of it vividly. Devon was without a single doubt the best lay he ever had and he knew, by her confession, she must have had the same feelings about him. But he found that for once it wasn't just the sex, there was more to it than that…. He just couldn't put his ringed finger on it. He left his musings for the moment and realised that said finger would be put to better use if it toyed with her swollen nipple, teasing the tender flesh by swirling lightly around it. He found himself becoming more aroused by the minute.

While his fingers continued to torment Devon, Jack realised that before now, there had never been a woman that could make him feel this way. She made him feel weak and strong at the same time, and it was as if she could see right through him. But before he could continue that train of thought, all notions were put on hold when she began to plant teasing butterfly kisses on his chest.

However, once the vixen began to suck his finger suggestively and he noticed that he could feel how much she wanted him on his lower abdomen, his train of thought de-railed and was completely forgotten, because he found that he really didn't want to think too much at the moment. Of course his racing heart would have destroyed any thought that lingered in his mind anyway.

'Yer such a bad girl, Duville,' he whispered hoarsely, when he felt her grinding hips against his sex. The friction alone was enough to make him tremble.

'Not 'alf as bad as I'd like ta be,' she whispered back while she buried her head in his unruly hair, and effectively pinned his hands to the mattress again.

'Ye know what they say, don't ye luv?' he said amusedly, but then he tensed and felt his feet tremble at what the vixen did to him, his body was beyond his control. _Oh dear Lord 'ave mercy, how's she do tha'?_

He felt a small stream of air slide past his cheek as she spoke, 'Pray tell, Jack…' and he felt her teeth sink deliciously into his throat, while her tongue swirled over the newly claimed flesh and let her sex slide along his length teasingly.

'Ooooooh… They say…… hmmmmm Good girls go ta…… ahhhhhh Heaven and bad girls…' At that point he couldn't bare her torture any longer so he freed his hands from her iron grip and placed them firmly on her hips, lifted her up a bit and finally slid inside of her.

Devon instantly contracted her muscles around him and gasped at the sensation, 'Where do th' bad girls go, Sparrow, ye can't leave a gal guessin' like tha'…' _O' in th' name o' all things sacred, 'ow can 'e 'ave such an effect on me? _Without any real effort her body followed his rhythm. She circled her hips on top of him, and as she rode him she felt him slide deeper and deeper inside of her.

He skimmed her sides with his callused hands, 'Ye want ta know 'bout them bad girls?' a wicked grin formed on his wet lips, 'Well… they come to Jack…'

Devon circled her hips wilder atop of him in response and looked down at him, her eyes darkened with desire, 'An' this bad girl,' her nose touched his while her eyes were locked steady on his, giving him a very deep look, ''as every intention o' coming _with_ Jack….'

Needless to say Devon broke her own rule magnificently several more times that night, and each and every time was much to Jack's satisfaction.

* * *

After the sun rose and the day had begun, Jack rolled over to find the now so familiar shape and form of the piratess that he had watched fall asleep in his arms was not there. His right hand searched for her and he groped among the bed sheets but found nothing. Then he felt a weight shifting behind him, while a wet tongue licked his nape and he grinned, 'Hmmmm, an' a good mornin' ta ye too, lil' tramp.'

Just when he was about to open his eyes, turn around and kiss her full lips good morning, he heard her voice, very far away. She was singing again, somewhere…. distant, and most definitely NOT near him! He turned around quickly, causing the sheets to ripple and he saw – his eyes opening wider by the second – that the tongue that had just licked him did not belong to the Hellcat, but to the Hell dog! He blinked several times to make sure this wasn't a dream, but the image of the "licker" remained the same. He had just been licked by….. _O' I'm gonna be sick…_

He got up, as quick as he could, and staggered backwards, noticing immediately that the ship was rocking slightly.

'She's lifted th' bloody anchor all by herself! Insolent wench!' he growled while he wrapped one of the sheets, which still smelled of their essences from the night before, around him before he stormed through his cabin doors. To be more precise they were really Gillette's or Norrington's cabin doors, but he barged through them as if they were his own. He found her at the helm, after nearly tripping over the sheet while climbing the stairs to reach the deck. She stood behind the wheel, barefoot and adorned in only her thin blouse and breeches, studying an old brass compass like she was a bloomin' Captain and had been for years. Despite his raging anger, he couldn't shake the feeling that she looked so natural there…

Devon noticed him from the corner of her eyes and gave him a sideways glance followed by a huge smile, 'Oy, Sparrow, tire ye out tha' much, did I?'

He snorted. 'Nay ye didn't an' I've been wide awake fer hours, wench,' he lied, knowing she'd see right through it.

Devon rolled her eyes. 'Sure ye 'ave. Yer snores were louder than Bullet's when I woke up. Sleepin' like a bear in 'ibernation, ye were! Could've stolen ev'ry bloody thing ye own an' all ye'd 'ave done is moan an' groan me name some more!'

Jack moved closer, cautiously of course since he wanted to keep the sheet in place, 'I most certainly did not moan yer name!' _I didn't, did I?_ 'Anyways that's hardly th' subject 'ere. Would ye care ta inform me just what th' Hell ye think yer doin' behind tha' wheel?'

'Makin' bloody good time, that's what I be doin'!' she stated, quite amused with Sparrow's reaction.

'How th' devil did ye get tha' anchor up in th' first place?'

'Yer not too bright in th' mornin', are ye Capt'n? I might still be a bit sore, but tha' don't mean I can't carry me own weight aboard a ship.'

'Why don't ye listen to what ye just said again lil' Miss Oh-I'm-So-Bold-In-Me-Breeches! _I'm_ the Capt'n 'round 'ere! _I_ should be behind that wheel!' he fumed, hands trembling as he pointed manically to himself. 'Not ye, _me_. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow! The C-A-P-T-A-I-N! Remember th' lil' talk we had 'bout this?'

'Well, dear Capt'n…. It seems ta me tha' ye should've thought 'bout tha' b'fore dawn. 'Cause I ne'er let a good opportunity pass me by.'

Jack was getting angrier by the minute, but Devon knew she could anger him as much as she wanted as long as she could calm him down later. All she had to do was get his mind on … other things. She grinned inwardly, he really was too easy. She proceeded to give him an angelic little smile, while she revealed a tan shoulder to him, by pulling the collar of her shirt to the side, her fingers tracing the exposed skin down to her cleavage. It was at that point that Jack's hands lost their grip on the fabric. _Gotcha! God, this be too easy an' way too fun._

'Jack?' she queried innocently.

'What?' he snapped back.

'Ye might wanna put some clothes on, 'specially when tha' compass needle o' yers is sadly pointin' south.'

He looked down in shock when he noticed the sheet had fallen and was now being swept overboard by a tuck of the wind, he tried to catch it, lashing out towards the railing, but it seemed the wind had other things in mind. He turned around to face her in all his naked glory. She appraised him and gave him _that_ look again, her eyes now glistening like sapphires. He fought it, determined to beat those damned feelings for just this once, but he failed and felt his pride and joy as it proudly rose to point north again.

Her throaty laugh echoed across the empty deck as Jack stalked back to his chambers, slamming the doors shut behind him. While Jack let out his rage by tossing everything he could grab hold of against the wooden walls, Devon just shrugged her shoulders and began to sing once more.

She idly sang the words and watched the needle of her compass, but couldn't loose the image of the stark naked Captain Jack Sparrow as he stood before her in broad daylight. He looked good enough to eat with a spoon. She studied her tattered compass again and finally noticed that the sight of Sparrow's naked persona had gotten them slightly of course. She gave a firm tug at the spokes of the wheel to correct her error. She heard a stumble as the ship changed its course followed by a long string of curses in various languages.

Devon grinned and kept on singing, even as she noticed that the voice, and the cursing, was getting louder. _Juuuuuust ignore th' bloke… _To top Jack's cursing Devon sang even louder.

He shouted dangerously close to her ear, 'WHAT TH' DEVIL DO YE THINK YER DOIN' NOW YE HARLOT? YE NEARLY BROKE ME NECK JUST THEN!'

'Keep yer mouth shut fer once will ye? Due ta yer lil' escapade wit' th' sheet ye got us off track, an' was jus' gettin' us back on course, all right?' she hissed.

'I 'appen ta think it would be best,' he said in a tone too calm for his raging temper, 'if ye stepped away from th' helm an' found somethin' else ta do.'

'Fine!' she huffed, 'I'll be on the balcony, in case ye decide tha' ye need me after all!'

'Balcony?'

'Th' bloody crow's nest!' and with that she turned on her bare heel, and dashed off to her new destination… somewhere HE wouldn't come follow.

Jack watched her climb the ropes again and admired the view of her ass from his vantage point.

Devon sensed his gaze again and snapped, 'An' would ye stop undressin' me wit' them damned eyes o' yers!'

'Tha' would be wishful thinkin', Duville!' he shouted after her, even though he felt his pants getting tighter again.

Devon's blouse whipped around her and the damp breeze felt soothed her skin while she climbed the rigging. Her curls danced about her face as she reached the highest point of the ship.

Devon stood up in the crow's nest, while Jack stood behind the wheel of the _Liberty_. They hadn't said a word since Jack had told Devon to hand over the place behind the helm to him. He was angry at her for captaining the ship without his consent, while she was angry that he was acting like such a dickhead.

The only serene thing was the ship itself and the waters they sailed on. The former naval vessel was covered in a hazy grey, while the two person crew of the _HMS Liberty_ came closer and closer to their destination. Both pirates were equally thrilled to go ashore.

Tortuga…

It was the city of sins, the Walhalla of every pirate and scoundrel. Lucifer's very own Garden of Eden, but a place that many pirates preferred to simply call 'home'… Home for many wandering souls. A guesthouse that was always open for the open minded and the free spirited. Tortuga, where the willing women and the giving men would always be there awaiting them and where the rum would always generously flow. It was Jack and Devon's personal number one destination. Their view of what Heaven was like… well, it was a Heaven with a nasty smell and you _did_ have to keep a sharp eye open for danger since that lured around every corner, but without all that, Heaven would be rather dull, wouldn't it?

Devon saw a tiny spot appearing on the horizon, and she knew by the butterflies in her stomach that it was the Tortugan skyline, growing larger and larger as it materialized from behind the fog as they sailed on.

'Heaven Ho!' she bellowed on the top of her longs.

Jack smiled at her very suiting description of their next anchorage, somehow forgetting his previous anger towards her as he got lost in the memories of Tortuga for a few brief moments.

'Get tha' fine ass o' yers down 'ere, Duville! Need ye ta work th' ropes,' he hollered towards the mizzenmast.

Within a few seconds, Devon landed – and this time on her feet and very gracefully – on deck. She saluted him and climbed the rigging on the stern deck, immediately tightening the ropes of the sail that had come loose. After she was finished and back on deck, she walked up to the helm and leaned on the railing, gliding her eyes over Jack's physique. The profile of his face, his perfectly shaped nose, those high cheekbones, that masculine chin and those extravagant braids and dreads – which she just adored – and the wrinkles of his concentrated frown made her knees buckle. She didn't dare to ponder about those magical dark mysterious eyes he had, for she would be lost in her thoughts for some time just as she constantly got lost in those eyes…. she sighed heavily.

'Devon me darlin', I know ye can hardly take those lovely blue orbs off o' me handsome form, but would ye mind adjustin' th' mainsail? An' don't give me girly crap 'bouts ye not bein' able ta do tha' all be yer onesies, 'cause I be knowin' tha' would be a lame excuse ta stay 'ere an' drool over me captivatin' charisma.'

Devon looked astonished at her temporary Captain, her mouth opened like a fish gasping for water, but she wasn't able to utter a single word. For a few moments, which seemed like centuries to Devon, her mouth could only open and close, while the only thing that escaped her lips was the air she exhaled. Her hands curled into fists at her sides as her voice finally came back to her, and there she stood, rooted to the spot as she trembled from anger over his poised behaviour.

'Who th' _fuck_ do ye think ye are? Ye big pompous self-assured, self-centred, vain, annoyin', sickenin', sex-obsessed, half-twit!' Devon shouted at the top of her lungs, her chest heaving from her anger.

Jack just smiled benignly at her in return, 'An' I'd be glad ta return those compliments, dear. Ye ain't no shred better 'n I am ye know,' and he started singing his favourite song, while he watched Devon stomp angrily across the deck over to the mainmast.

'Weeeeeeee're Devons –' Jack's eyes widened in shock and he swiftly placed one ring clad hand over his mouth, but he quickly recovered, and began to sing again in an even louder voice, praying that his former slip wasn't noticed. 'Weeeeeeee're DEVILS and black sheep an' really bad eggs… drink up me 'earties yo ho…'

He shouldn't have bothered, since Devon was too tied up in her own internal rant. _What th' hell does he think? Tha' I start ta drool whenever I lay me eyes on 'im? Tha' I can't hold meself together when he's 'round? God, how vain an' egocentric can a man be? It be HIM that drools over ME! If I gave him th' go sign he'd be in me knickers b'fore I'd even finish me damned sentence… Egotistical bastard. _She climbed the rigging again and pulled some of the ropes tighter, which truth be told _was_ a damn hard thing to do by one's self, since these tasks were usually done by at least two men, so it could be done faster and more efficiently, but Devon didn't protest. Jack's comment was out of line and positively degrading. _I'll show th' slimy bastard! Can't do it by meself 'cause I wanted ta stay an' look at him… my fuckin' foot! Perverted swine. Even if it takes me a bloody hour an' I get meself some more blisters in th' process, I WILL adjust his bloody mainsail, an' I'll do it perfectly!_ Then she passed over to the other side and loosened a few other ropes, her muscles flexing every which way, and a veil of sweat covered her brow. The wind caught the sail at the perfect angle, just as it should and Dee felt the ship surge onward. Content, she hooked her left leg through the rigging and began munching on the red apple she had found in the galley earlier.

'Oy, Duville, where'd ye get tha' apple?' she heard Jack shout from beneath her.

'Galley ye dork, where else? Or did ya see an apple tree growin' 'ere somewhere?' she said while took another large bite from her apple.

'I'd fancy one too, go grab me one.'

Devon rolled her eyes, took another large bite from the juicy apple, and then narrowed her eyes as a sly grin started to form on her lips. She looked down at the apple and her grin widened as she got another of her brilliant ideas.

'Ye sure ye be wantin' one, Sparrow?' she asked pseudo-innocently, batting her long, thick eyelashes.

'Aye. I 'appen ta love apples, tart,' he bellowed back to her.

'Then 'ere ye go Capt'n. One apple… comin' up!'

Devon swung her right hand back and tossed the half eaten apple in his direction. Before he realised what she had done, it hit his bandana with perfect accuracy and Devon almost fell out of the rigging from to her laughter. _Tha' face o' his, o' tha' sight be worth more than a bottle o' rum! More than a whole barrel even!_

Jack fumed. His whole body trembled as he clutched one hand around the spokes of the wheel and wiped his face clean with the other.

'You! You fuckin' witch! Get down 'ere – now!' Jack barked. He was clutching the wheel so tight that his knuckles were rapidly turning white. When she didn't seem to move fast enough, he swung the wheel about, causing Devon to loose her hold in the rigging. Yet she somehow managed to grab one of the ropes in the web she was on just prior to Jack's dangerous turn, so she just dangled there upside down;her foot still caught in the ropes.

'Now ye jus' list'n ta me ye nuisance. First, I be the Capt'n on this 'ere ship, so ye'll treat me with the proper respect, damnit! Secondly, if I hadn't given ye me word and if I weren't a man of me word I'd toss ye overboard so fast ye wouldn't know what hit ye.'

Devon just flashed him one of her sparkling smiles and blew him a kiss, while she hooked her foot properly in the net again and swung her body around so that she was upright in the rigging once more.

'Toss me overboard, eh? Hmmmm, seems tha' ye can't resist me when I'm wet… I knew it!'

As Jack shook his head, Devon could hear his trinkets clashing, and knew she had successfully gotten him annoyed again.

'Oy Duville? Yer dog just fell over an' there be foam on its mouth… is tha' normal?'

Before Devon could think twice, she jumped down from the rigging and rushed over towards Jack.

When she got there she found Bullet perfectly fine, wagging its tiny tail at her, and she knew Jack had just given her a taste of her own medicine.

'Don't _ever_ do tha' ta me 'gain!' she raged as she took another step closer to him, 'Lest o'course yer tired o' livin' yer pathetic life! Cause on pain of death I swear I'll –'

Jack's mouth swallowed the words that were about to launch from her mouth as he silenced her with his determined kiss.

Devon struggled for a moment, but when Jack deepened the kiss, his tongue ravaging her mouth, she couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around his neck and returned the favour. Jack broke the zealous kiss as unexpectedly as he had started it. After only a few moments in her embrace he felt all his blood rushing towards his groin, and that frightened him. He backed away from her and turned towards the wheel to hide his traitorous manhood, then cleared his throat. 'Don't know wha' came over me. Ever so sorry,' he spoke even though his voice was hoarse.

'Same here…' Devon answered flatly, eyes closed to hide the randy glint inside of them. And despite that fact, and that Jack's back was facing her, she knew he saw it anyway.

'Tell me somethin', putain, how'd ye do it?'

An incubus smile started to form on her full lips, 'Ye mean turn ye on like tha'? And don't tell me yer not turned on, 'cause I felt it Jack. Ye may be hung like a horse, but act like a bleedin' donkey. Took me years o' hard work an' labour ta get tha' good, me dear Capt'n.'

He turned around, gloating, 'Did ye jus' pay me a compliment, tart?'

'Can't recall, pisser, I say a lot o' things….'

He pressed his body against hers again, not caring if she felt the evidence or not. 'Ye said – an' I quote – "Ye may be hung like a horse…"'

Devon smiled and shrugged her shoulders, 'I'm a pirate Jack, I tend ta lie ta get what I want…' and with that she called Bullet and strolled over to the stern, and grinned impishly as she left Jack behind on his favourite spot of the ship… wanton and waiting.

To be continued…

_**A/N.**_

_**So sorry to have kept you waiting – again – as you might have noticed this chapter is filled with cute Jack/Devon moments and rather long. So I think we made up for the fact this chapter was delivered a bit later than we both wanted to.**_

**_P.S. One of my personal reasons for not getting around to update sooner, is that my darling husband and I recently became the proud parents of our own little French Bulldog girl. And I have waited four looong years to finally convince him of the fact that a cute Frenchie would make me the happiest girl on the face of this planet. She's called "Muppet" and we love her dearly. So now you know, that the Devon/Bullet part was/is written because I am absolutely in love with this particular breed and have been for several years!_**

_**But you know what would make me – the author – even happier? If the lot of you would let me know what ye think. So… go on, don't be shy, can't wait to read what you guys think.**_

_**Lots of love from Holland,**_

_**The DuTchess of Doom!**_


	24. Tortuga and Torture

_Disclaimer: I own my own words, Linnie owns the words she's twisted and the mouse rules Pirate World!_

**E/n: DuTchess and I had teamed up on this one in certain areas because we like things to be perfect. (I think I'm rubbing off on her.) The betaing for this one took me a while what with school, working again, and the fact that these past weeks have been crazy since I'm singing in two concerts this weekend! And those just happen to be for the opening of my University's **_**Concert Hall!**_** (Think I'm excited?) Anyway, hope you forgive me luvs, but this is nice and long to make up for it … around 21 pages actually. Glad to see that people still read the story even with my lack of continuous updates. Thank you all so much for sticking with us! xoxo Linnie**

_**A note from Dutchess: This chapter was soooooo difficult to write, you'll understand when you proceed to finally read the damned chapter! The difficulty of writing it, is the reason for the fact that I asked Linnie to not only beta/edit this chapter but also help me out plotwise… It wouldn't have been the same without her help. So thanks Lin, for all your ideas and for the effort you put into it.**_

_**I should let you lovely faithful readers know that mostly I have the chapters written in advance, so I can e-mail Linnie a "fresh" one after she mails me the one to post. But now I have so much on my mind, planning my best friends wedding, her bachelorette party, work, working out, more work… our darling hairy "daughter" Muppet and stuff, that I don't get around do writing as much as I**__**'d like to… in short.. LIFE gets in the way. I hope to work on the next chapter as much as I can, but I can't make any promises. I just hope you bear with me, while I work on chapter 25 and bear with Linnie when she finally gets to work on it!**_

_**And now I present you, the newest instalment of the adventures of Jack & Devon…**_

"_Hey barroom mirror on the wall _

_Go stare at someone else _

_Don't show the world the fool I am _

_Just keep it to yourself "_

_Garth Brooks – Longneck Bottle_

**Chapter 24**

_**Tortuga and Torture  
**_

When they finally reached Tortuga's harbor, Jack skillfully steered the ship towards the docks and Devon assisted him in every way she could almost effortlessly, it was like they had worked together for ages. It seemed that when the duo could get past their pride and anger towards one another, they manifested themselves as a solid, well-oiled and capable team. Of course, every too often, their anger and stubbornness would and inevitably _did_ get in the way.

As soon as Jack had shoved out the gangplank, Devon dashed past him, briefly sliding her hand over his appealing backside. Jack raised his eyebrows when he felt her hand, but when he looked at her he saw she was paying no attention to him. Devon walked across the gangplank, Bullet following in her wake, while the humid and filthy Tortuga air filled her nostrils. _Ah… home. It's like a breath o' fresh air. All I'll be needin' now is a drink. _She grinned and stretched her muscles, sore from all the work she had done in order to get them into the harbour, and shook her curls loose. Truth be told there wasn't much to shake loose since a few strands of her hair were starting to look like Jack's dreads, but shaking them was the least Devon could do to make her hair look a bit more decent. As she primped, an approving whistle trilled across the docks, followed by: "Ey there Beautiful…"

Devon's instantly eyes shot in the direction the voice came from and she winked. ''Ello boys, did we all wash our belows? Since I am keen on inspect–"

She never got to finish her query because was swiftly cut off by Jack. "Would ye shut yer trap fer once? We ain't here fer a nice roll in th' hay! We need ta find me Pearl, need I remind ye?" Then he unceremoniously shoved her past the men along the docks. As the pair strolled down the dock, one of the men was about to call to Devon when Jack hissed at him, "She is taken mate, so quit wit' th' starin'."

Devon's eyebrow shot up after this comment, and her heart, damn it all, skipped a beat. Had he just said she was taken? Oh, bugger it! He had just ruined her chances with those fine specimens. Of course if he has just said what she thought he did then she had more to think about then those fine specimens that she just lost out on. Devon glanced over her shoulder one last time, but then shrugged it off and looked around to make sure Bullet was still with them. The small bulldog was quietly walking at Jack's feet occasionally looking up to the Captain. _He likes Jack too… well, well what-do-ye-know… _Of course Devon knew her Frenchie liked almost everyone, and was a gentle and tender dog for both friend and foe. But Devon noticed that when she was involved with a bloke, any bloke, the dog had always been kind of jealous over the attention her newest lovers had gotten. But with Jack, it almost seemed as if Bullet had given her its blessing… _Odd, _she thought…

"AAAAAAAAAAAH there's me gal!" She heard Jack shout from behind her. He ran forward, with almost childlike enthusiasm, towards the majestic ship that laid anchor in front of them.

Devon shook her head in dismay, "What _is_ it wit' ye Captains an' boats anyway? Me father, Drake an' ye… ye're all alike in tha' strange way… seems as tho' a boat is a human bein' ta th' lot o' ye…" she grinned.

He turned on his heel positively aghast, "**SHIP**! That be _ship_ luv! Don't let me e'er 'ear ye callin' me Pearl a "boat" again…", he shuddered as he corrected her. After she shrugged off his little reprimand, he addressed her most interesting comment. "But find it odd do ye? Well missy, ye cherish tha' dog o' yers like it be a human bein' also, an' ye don't hear me fussin' bouts tha' do ye?"

"Touché," Devon retorted as she grinned back at him.

"Alrigh' tart," he said, tearing his eyes away from his beloved ship, "Let's go an' find ourselves a nice mug o' rum. Wha' say ye ta tha'?"

"I say, why are we standin' 'round 'ere fer then? Let's go!" then she linked her arm through Jack's, clicked her tongue to Bullet and they were off.

They made their way to the "Willing Wench" a tavern that Devon hadn't visited in ages. At first she wanted to suggest another tavern to Jack, but then thought the better of it. _The past is no more than the past, righ'?_ When Jack bustled through the doors of the tavern, he nearly ran head-long into AnaMaria.

"Watch where ye're goin'! Piqûre stupide…." (Stupid prick….) AnaMaria snapped without looking up. When Jack coughed, she glanced up and had the decency to look astonished when she noticed that it was her Captain that she had nearly collided with, not to mention cursed at, even if it was in French. Then when she realized who he was with she glanced from her superior to her childhood friend in confusion. "Jack? Spitfire? How'd th' two o' ye get together? Or rather, how'd ye get 'ere? An' wit' him no less! It didn't seem like th' two o' ye were gettin' 'long too well b'fore… well, actually tha' be th' understatement o' th' century… But really, how'd ye manage ta get 'ere?"

Devon wrapped her arm around AnaMaria's shoulder and said, "Tha' be quite a damn long story, m'dear. One best told over several bottles o' rum I'd imagine, what say ye?"

Jack came up behind her and pinched her bum, "Ye read me bloody mind 'gain, tart. Let's go find a table 'n catch up on things…"

Devon was following Ana's lead through the pub, when the bartender drew her attention… An incubus smile formed on her lips. 'Ana, be a dear an' save me a chair, would ye?'

"Why? Ye can just come 'n sit wit' us now..." Ana retorted pointing to the chair next to the one she let herself fall heavily down on, but when she followed the older woman's gaze, instantly she knew why she had to save Devon the seat. Ana shook her head good naturedly. _Foxes ne'er loose their wild hair… 'specially this one._

"I've gotta go talk ta someone…" Devon said while she sauntered over to the bar towards the relatively handsome man. He had a broad posture, dark blonde hair that was tied back in a loose ponytail, grey eyes and a broad smile to match his posture. The smile faded from his face for a moment as he looked in confusion at the raven haired woman who approached him, but when he saw the smirk on Devon's face, recognition graced his face and his smile returned, possibly even broader than it had been before.

"Devon."

"Victor," she said flatly, tapping on the bar with her dirty fingernails.

"Long time…"

"Aye, I guess ye could say tha'…" she said while her eyes were locked on his grey ones for a moment, before sliding along the various liquor bottles on the shelves behind him. _I've been tryin' ta avoid this 'ere place mate… ye should remember why… _she thought. There was an eerie silence that lingered for a moment, but then the bartender spoke and eased into a conversation with Devon.

"Ye wear yer hair different now," he spoke while he took a tendril of her hair between his fingers, "I like it."

"I'm incognito, glad it meets yer approval. Can't say ye've changed much tho'…"

"Nay, everything is pretty much t'same…. Well not everything. I suppose th' only thing different is this," he said while he held out his left hand which bore a plain golden band on his ring finger. "I'm married now."

Devon's eyes narrowed a bit, while a mocking pout formed on her lips. "Come again? Married? So ye mean ta tell me I've wasted me chance wit' ye?"

"Ye ne'er were th' kind ta waste any chances, an' I don't think that changed 'bouts ye over th' years. And e'er since ye turned down me offer th' last time I saw ye, I ne'er got ta see ye again. Although yer name was dropped a lot o' times, I figured ye'd ne'er change yer mind." The bartender sighed, while he rubbed the counter with the cloth he had fidgeted with prior. "So I moved on as well, couldn't stay here wishin' fer th' impossible ta happen, now could I?" he said while he stroked her arm, gently caressing the black dragon adorning her tan skin.

She smiled, and knew he hadn't held a grudge against her, "True 'nough, but who's on th' receivin' end o' yer corkscrew fer now an' till eternity, I wonder…"

As he opened his mouth to give her the name, Devon shushed him, placing her finger on his lips.

"Nah, lemme guess," she said with a grin, "Is it Elaine…?"

When no response was given she continued, ticking off all the names of the women she remembered on her fingers. "Suzy... Carmen... Louise... Mary... Oh. My. GOD! Lola! It's Lola ain't it?" she smacked her fist on the bar and some of the men who sat at a nearby turned their heads to see what the commotion was about. "I knew it! She's always 'ad a crush on ye... she was quite hostile when I left here, think she knew what was goin' on b'tween us... guess she's real happy ye tied th' knot wit' er now tho'…" she said warmly.

He grinned and nodded. "Aye, she is. But it could've been ye, ye know... ye always were me favorite... we had somethin' special…"

"Fer cryin' out loud we _had_ nothin', Victor! And tha' was only once! An' yer married now, ye should ferget 'bouts them past adventures even when they were wit' yers truly. 'Sides I think yer th' kind o' man who wants what 'e can't have. Lola is good fer ye… she loves ye, that's more than I had ta offer ye." Devon retorted, studying the man's face.

"An' I still treasure those memories in me heart. In fact yer th' only one who could tempt me ta commit adultery, just ta make ye see wha' ye threw away..." he snickered, even though he had meant the words he had just spoken.

Devon laughed and patted him amicably on the arm, "Dream on, Victor. Ye've been able ta taste me once, I don' want ye ta dream e'en more 'bouts me after ye tasted me 'gain. 'Sides tha' no man e'er 'ad th' fortune o' tastin' me twice!" she discreetly glanced over her shoulder at Sparrow and bit her lip. _Ye be lyin' an' ye know it Dee, one man did taste ye twice…an' trice… and over 'n over…. _Devon rambled on, completely ignoring the truth that the voice spoke in her head. "Sides tha' yer better off wit' 'er, I'm no good wit' commitments, ye know tha'... Now, drag yer dirty mind back ta th' here an' now... Lola, yer _wife_, remember?"

He sighed. "What 'bout 'er?"

"How is th' wench! Is she 'round? T'would be nice ta see 'er 'gain!"

"She's wonderful, as a matter o' fact she be workin' even as we speak."

"Ye mean ta tell me tha' she's still in th' business? Ye willingly let 'er fuck others fer th' money? Some marriage ye've got... jus' makes me think, why bother? Why change a good thin' an' make it official? I mean if she's still doin' wha' she did b'fore an' yer still lookin' fer foreign flesh ta warm ye, why get married?" she snorted.

"Could ye please keep yer mind out o' th' gutter, Dee? She be _Madame_ Lola now, keeper o' th' newest brothel on th' rock. Th' only work she does off 'er feet now, is fulfillin' 'er marital duties," he stated proudly.

"An' there ye go tellin' _me _ta keep me mind out o' th' gutter!" she laughed. "Ye know it resides there constantly, jus' like yers as ye jus' proved, now tell me Vic… Wha' be t'name o' this brothel, Sodom an' Gomorra? An' I be damned thirsty by th' way," she tapped her fingernails on the bar once again.

"It is called "The Warm Welcome," now what'll ye have, Duville?"

"Hmmmm… tha' certainly has a ring to it… What'll I 'ave? Yer naked arse on a silver platter would be very nice an' quite entertainin' as well, but since ye're married an' all an' I'm not th' least bit interested in wreckin' said marriage, a double rum would do jus' fine. Straight up an' no added water, I wanna taste th' real thin' 'gain," she quipped while she idly bit on her finger.

"Added water? I never once did such a thing," the bartender shot back.

"Do not fool me, Vic, I've seen ye do it, so don't mess wit' me… Ye know I can get very nasty if I don't get wha' I want," Devon drawled, while she touched the side of his face. "Now be a good boy an' give it ta me."

"Don't tempt me, puss. I might be married, but I still 'ave it, if ye catch me meanin'..." he said, raising a suggestive eyebrow, while he took a bottle of his finest off the top shelf and filled her a cup. "There ye go, puss, on th' house o' course." He said as he shoved the mug towards her.

"Wouldn't 'ave it any other way." She winked and finished the rum in one swig. "Nother please… an' bring a bottle o' yer finest to tha' table over there… an' make sure that Captain Jack Sparrow gets me compliments. I owe 'im one," she said, slamming the empty mug on the table.

Victor immediately refilled it, this time her cup was filled to the rim. "Yer wit' Jack Sparrow? Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Aye fer th' moment I am. An' tha' bottle ye send over, shall be on th' house as well, savvy? Ye know… fer old time's sake." The look she gave the bartender was laced with something that could best be described as naughty persistence. A barmaid was quickly called over, who was soon then sent over to the table where Jack was seated.

* * *

Jack searched the table for Duville but couldn't find her, since he didn't want to make a fool of himself and ask for her whereabouts, he just sat himself down and scanned the bar. And there she was, sitting at the counter, chatting animatedly with the bartender. _What's she up ta now, an' why is she leanin' over tha' far? She should jus' ask 'im to feel 'er up...'_ He heard her throaty laugh and he cringed inside. Why was she over there seducing that geezer, when she was supposed to be here sitting with him? And on his lap to be more precise. _What's 'e got tha' I don't? I am trice th' man he is… I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, fer crissakes, I mean she ain't blind now is she? What th' devil does she think she's doin' over there? Tha' harlot!_

Ana watched him grind his teeth out of the corner of her eye. "Somethin' wrong Captain?"

Gibbs followed Ana's gaze and became confused as to his Captain's behavior as well. "Aye Cap'n what is it that ails ye?"

"Don't be silly, wha' could possibly be ailin' me? There be nothin' wrong! Wha' could possibly be wrong? Got me crew back, got me Pearl back..." Then he sighed softly and took a long swig from his mug, his eyes still drawn to the scene at the counter. "An' I intend ta 'ave meself a jolly good time, if that's alright by ye o'course…"

"Fine by me, Capt'n," Ana said while she shared a look with Gibbs.

"So glad tha' I 'ave yer blessin' lass..." He moped while his eyes wandered over to Duville yet again.

When he saw the tart run her long skilled fingers along the side of the bloke's face, he couldn't help himself, "Ana! D'ye happen ta know th' bloke Duville is _talkin'_ to?"

AnaMaria looked over at the bar again and she shrugged her shoulders. "Can't say I do, but methinks Devon knows 'im quite well."

"Capt'n," Gibbs cut in while Jack slammed his empty mug on the table "Why is she 'ere? Why'd ye bring 'er? That woman's frightful bad luck I say, utter evil, I say I can tell by me waters, says I..." Joshamee Gibbs looked at the mysterious piratess at the back of the tavern and sighed. Jack Sparrow had few weaknesses, but women were his biggest flaw, and this one… well this one could very well be his Captain's Achilles' heel. Judging by the way Jack was staring at her, he put two and two together rather fast. The conclusion he came to made him shiver. One woman aboard a ship was bad luck as it was, but two….that was just tempting the Gods. And since his Captain had basically made it crystal clear she was to stay on the Pearl, he rubbed his lucky rabbit's foot frantically just in case. He made a mental note to look for his evil eye-charm and to keep it close to him from now on… they just might need all the help they could get.

Jack took another swig from his mug, and looked at his old friend, 'Ye couldn't be more right, Joshamee, but she's gotta stay, promised 'er I'd take 'er back to Drake,' he said, trying to hide his true emotions, while he got more and more agitated at the casual way Devon chatted and smiled at that bartender.

"Captain Jack Sparrow?" the barmaid asked when she planted a bottle of rum in front of him.

"Aye luv, tha' would be me…"

'This is a bottle of our finest rum, offered to ye from the owner of this tavern with the compliments of Miss Duville.'

"Why thank ye luv! Tell Miss Duville tha' I admire a woman tha' sticks to 'er word!" and then the brown haired girl scurried off to collect the empty mugs on the table. _An' tell 'er I hope she chokes in 'er own rum… why th' devil ain't she drinkin' it wit' me?_

Something was eating him up inside, but he decided to overlook it, and so he uncorked the bottle, filled his mug and took a firm swig of the liquor, '_Blast it! This is th' best rum I've e'er tasted here!'_ He saw a petite blonde girl wink at him from across the room. He took another firm swig, placed the mug back on the table and was off to charm her. Maybe this girl could help him take his mind off these strange feelings of his.

"'Ello luv," he said with an elegant bow. "How 'bouts ye an' I go 'ave ourselves a bit o' fun," he said while he let his eyes travel over her slender figure. She had golden flowing locks that fell in ringlets down her back, and a petite body embraced by a tight little pale blue bodice.

"Ye're Capt'n Sparrow, aren't ye? I couldn't help but overhear Lucy when she spoke ta ye," the girl gasped when she looked at him, and thought about how lucky she was to run into this legendary pirate Captain. This would surely mean extras.

"In th' flesh, luv," he said while he wrapped an arm around her slim waist and sniffed her scented hair. "How much fer yer warm an' undoubtedly pleasurable comp'ny, m'dearest?" he whispered in her ear while he ran his hand along the back of her dress, instinctively investigating how many hooks he would have to undo later.

"I'm sure we'll be able ta come ta some sort of enjoyable agreement, _Captain_," she purred back while she ran her tongue along her teeth.

* * *

''Nother please, an' keep 'em comin'!" Devon slammed her empty mug on the bar, turning her head slightly, noticing that the men next to her were staring at her with rather lustful expressions on their faces. Devon licked her lips, winked, leaned over and gave them a nice view of her cleavage. Then she narrowed her eyes, revealed her silver pistol and let her fingers slide over the barrel… The men's eyes widened at the veiled threat and they turned back to their game. _So damned predictable…._

"Ye know yer quite irresistible when drunk, Devon?"

Victor played with a strand of her hair for a moment, and then proceeded to clean the glasses best he could, to see whether he could make them almost clean once more.

"I'm always irresistible, dear. Just ask them," she cocked her head to indicate the men on her left, who were staring at her again, "If ever there was any doubt o' me captavatin' qualities. An' I'm not drunk, takes a lil' more than this ta get me sloshed, an' ye know it. So now if ye'll excuse me, I 'ave a lil' catchin' up ta do wit' me friend over there," she said as she pointed towards AnaMaria.

"Hmmmm, does yer friend 'ave a name?" was the bartender's only comment, although his eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

Devon rolled her eyes. "Yer insufferable, Victor. I might jus' go over ta Lola an' tell 'er 'bout all this an' then..."

He held his hands up in mock defence. "Give us a kiss an' I won't bother ye 'gain," he said while he refilled her mug.

Once again Devon finished the rum in one long swig, grabbed a new bottle from the counter and quipped, "Well if ye give US th' bot'le, I'll keep me pretty lil' mouth shut," then she blew him a kiss, winked and walked casually back to the table. Nimbly stepping around a drunken brawl between a few of the other patrons, Devon shook her head and grinned. _Wonder wha' it was 'bout this time… a pretty wench or a cheater at th' card game? Men…. _In her walk back to the table she gained a stalker, quite obviously drunk who didn't know of Devon's reputation. When he tried to grab her ass and opened his mouth to make her an offer for a night of pleasurable company, she whirled around, grabbing his wrist and twisting his hand to the side, and pulled her gun out with the other hand.

"Ye sure ye wanna make a move on a lass tha' ain't fer sale pig?" She smirked at the man, who was now quite obviously in pain. When she saw tears welling up in his blue eyes, she took pity on him. "Think twice b'fore messin' wit' me 'gain darlin'. 'Ave a nice night." With that she threw him to the floor and continued to walk through the tavern. She snaked her way through more tables, carefully stepping over some drunks that were presently out cold on floor in front of her.

"Devon!" she heard Victor shout behind from her, "Will ye sing tonight? Ye know, fer old times sake? It's been so goddamn long since I've heard yer lovely voice…" he put on a little pout, just for effect, because he knew that Devon would see right through it.

She shook her head, "No, no singin' t'night. I be 'ere ta enjoy meself. C'mon Bullet let's go see Ana," she said while she bent down to stroke her dog.

Victor shrugged his broad shoulders. "Such a shame…" before he went back to attempting to clean the glasses and mugs.

On her way over yet _another_ man from the table on her left got up and blocked her way.

"'Ello dear," the man spoke while his eyes roamed her body. "How 'bouts ye an' I get ta know each other a bit better, eh? Somethin' 'bouts ye just calls out ta me… ever since yer lovely legs walked in here."

Devon pushed him aside, "Let's not!" and continued her way, but the man wouldn't give up that easily

"Playin' hard ta get are ye? Fancy that…"

She turned around, hands on hips, and her head cocked and while she looked down on him and spoke with an exasperated tone. "Do ye imbeciles not learn from yer predecessors?" _Absolutely insufferable! Why did I come 'ere tonight! I do __**not **__want ta deal wit' this shite t'night! _She rolled her eyes at the fool in front of her. "See 'ere ye worm, I ain't playin' anythin' nor am I in th' mood ta play anythin' wit' th' likes o' ye. Now if ye'd be so kind as ta remove yerself from me view, I'd be very much obliged." She gave him an icy glare and stepped up a bit. Devon's left hand hovered over the hilt of her sword, the fingers of her right moving in a mystical pattern over her pistol.

"An' if I don't move, darlin', what'd ye intend ta do then, eh? _Make_ me?" he taunted. As he bellowed with laughter, he looked around to see if that remark got any attention. When he saw that several heads had turned in their direction he grinned smugly. "So? What are ye gonna do, deary, 'cause I ain't moving an inch till yer lips kiss mine," he grinned belittlingly as he stepped even closer, and Devon could now smell his toxic breath. Devon decided to leave her pistol where it was. _After all, there be no need ta waste me precious ammunition on someone this insignificant_.

Devon smiled, and a very sly grin formed on her lips when she stepped up to the man, her eyes flashing dangerously as they were looking into his.

"Ye're right, there's no denyin' tha' I want ye–" she said, throwing her arms around him and swiftly but forcefully raising her knee in the man's groin while placing her right boot in front of his left leg and yanking him forward to the floor, making good use of the arms which were around his neck. He collapsed on the floor in front of her, crying and cursing. _Well, well… methinks yer a soprano now, boy…_ she smirked. Then she looked down on the pathetic sight before her and cocked her head, as several men came to look what the brawl was about.

Devon spat on the face of her aggressor, drove one of her sea-boots forcefully in his side, walked over him and continued her tirade.

"– I want ye ta remember, ye lil' pisser, I made ye move! Tha', an' I also made ye fall… An' jus' maybe ye should take tha' inta consideration next time ye meet a lady 'cause some o' us, as ye can clearly see, can make ye regret th' day ye e'er crossed their path!" she shouted over her shoulder as she finally reached the table that the Pearl's Captain and crew had made themselves comfortable at. In fact, she realized in shock, Sparrow had made himself _very_ comfortable… perhaps a little _too_ comfortable in her opinion.

He was sitting in his chair with a beautiful blonde girl placed on his lap and he was feeling her up while the girl was grinding her narrow hips onto Jack's lap. Much to Devon's annoyance, the tramp had a striking oval shaped face with quite a bit of makeup, but not enough to be too much and grey eyes that hadn't seen that many years. And she was very slender. In short, Devon, thought aggravated, the girl was the complete opposite of herself. All that and a great deal younger. _How can someone tha' young 'ave this kind o' occupation? _Devon pondered. She almost broke the bottle as she clenched her fist tighter around the bottleneck. Jack had caught her watching, so naturally he leaned in and kissed the girl right in front of her eyes. _That'll show 'er fer messin' wit' th' bloody bartender! Beat ye this time tart!_

Devon just stood there, wobbling on her sea legs, her eyes glued to the scene in front of her. She felt nothing. It was as if she was absolutely emotionless for a moment. But after a few moments, the numbness was replaced by incredibly sharp pains all over. She felt as if someone had opened her ribcage, tore out her heart and left her bleeding to death in a puddle of her own blood and insides. She felt she couldn't breathe, her chest hurt so much. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever felt before and this seemed to make even the wounds she had gained in battle less painful than what she felt at this moment. She didn't know what this strange and very painful sensation was, but she knew she didn't like it, not one bit.

When the girl bent over and deepened the kiss, Devon felt betrayed, hurt, and angry… her emotions were wreaking havoc within her, when she felt a hand on her shoulder that brought her back to the present. She turned around and blinked her eyes in an attempt to get rid of the sting she felt behind them.

"Let's go sit somewhere else, Spitfire... alrigh'?" Ana said warmly while she ushered the older woman through the crowd towards a quieter table on the other side of the tavern.

Devon vaguely remembered that she still held the bottle of rum in her hand and gulped down as much of it she could in one go, not letting it leave her lips from even the briefest moment. _Damn that man! Why'd I 'ave ta meet 'im anyways? _

Ana pulled the bottle away from Devon's lips and tried to ignore the glare she received from Devon as a result. "Okay, list'n 'ere spitfire, yer gonna tell me all there is ta know about whatever's goin' on b'tween ye an' Jack. And ye're goin' ta tell me now. Ye'll feel better."

Devon snorted, "There ain't nothin' ta tell Ana." and felt relieved as she had at least regained some semblance of control over herself again.

Ana leaned over the table, her face hovering in front of Devon's, "Don't give me tha', I do 'ave eyes ye know. I saw th' way he looks at ye, I've seen th' way ye look at him an' I saw th' green eyed monster take over back there... Yer jealous spitfire..."

"Bugger it all!" Devon sighed while she downed the last of her rum. "VICTOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRR!" she roared, causing all of the tavern's occupants to glance in her direction. "What y'all lookin' at? Mind yer own goddamn business!" she raged, but then softened when she looked at Ana. "Ana, care fer 'nother?" holding her empty bottle up.

The younger woman nodded her head, but sighed inwardly and shook her head at the antics of her old friend as soon as Devon's back was turned.

Devon strode over to the counter again, bumping into people and tables and ignoring the pain in her chest, trying desperately not to look over at Jack and his strumpet. Of course when she thought about how she didn't want to look at him, she found that her eyes automatically wandered back to him and the blonde stick-insect he had kissed right in front of her… The pain she felt before reared its ugly head once more, this time combined with a wave of nausea when she reached the counter.

"Vic, gimme 'nother bottle an' make it quick, would ye please? Oh, make tha' two actually…" The bartender did as he was told and handed her two bottles of rum. Devon greedily took them from him, ignoring the randy smile Victor was giving her. Biting the cork off one of the bottles, she returned to the table where AnaMaria was seated, waiting for her.

Devon turned the chair around so she could straddle the back of it as she leaned on it. "So, ye think I be jealous, tha' what this is 'bout?"

Ana took the bottles from Devon's hands and knew this matter needed to be handled with utmost care, "Aye, I do..."

"Bullshit," Devon shot back.

Ana countered, "Ye _are_, an' so was Jack. While ye was at th' counter talking ta him, he was actin' just like like ye right now," she said jerking her head in the direction of the bartender.

Devon couldn't suppress the grin that snaked its way onto her lips. "Ye sayin' 'e was jealous?" she leaned over the table towards AnaMaria, her eyes levelling with Ana's dark ones, while she tried to pry the cherished bottle back from her friend's hands.

"Aye, jus' like ye… so what be th' deal 'ere?"

Just when Devon was about to tell her friend how she had gotten caught and how she had been rescued, she was very rudely interrupted...

"ANA! Oh, good there ye are! Jus' wanted ye ta know tha' I'm goin' ta go wit' th' lovely Adele 'ere ta 'er room upstairs fer a bit! Jus' wanted ta let ye know tha' so ye wouldn't come lookin' fer me. Oh, an' don't wait up…!" Jack shouted and winked at Adele, even though he was standing right behind the two lady pirates, while he had a possessive hold around the blonde's slim waist. Then he looked to Devon, as if he just spotted that she was there as well, "Oh, ever so sorry. Didn't realize ye were 'ere as well, Duville..." But the devilish glint in his eyes told Devon that he was very well aware of the fact she was there. And Devon could just drink his blood for that. This was not just another game… if it were a game she could retaliate, but now she suffered a lack of words and wits.

Devon's stomach flipped and twisted into a thousand knots and she felt the sharp pain in her chest as it coursed through her again, but throughout all this she maintained her icy exterior. "Ye go 'n 'ave yer fun then, Sparrow..."

He tipped his hat at her and guided the blonde to the stairs where she proceeded to lead him to the rooms above the tavern.

Ana watched her friend closely, quite shocked at how calm she was, "An' ye're jus' gonna let him go? Jus' like tha'?"

Devon balled her fists, her nails leaving deep imprints on her palms, "I ain't 'is momma, 'e be a grown man, an' he can do whatever th' fuck 'e wants … or in this case _whoever _th' fuck 'e wants…" she whispered the last part with a vengeance, as though she was passionately praying that his dick would fall off the minute he got that bitch naked. She grabbed the bottle back from the table where Ana had just set it down, upturned it and finished it completely; gulping it down like it was water. _If I'm 'ere drownin' in me misery, I might as well give it good company wit' as much rum me ol' liver can bloody 'andle_. When she went to order another bottle Ana tried to stop her. "Dee, ye really shouldn't drink that much, we're goin' ta leave first thing tomorrow…"

"Jus' mind yer own damned business, Ana, I'll drink as much as I damn well please." She sighed as she tasted the rum in her mouth. It was by far her favourite comfort whenever she felt down or needed a pick-me-up. She wandered into the washroom, to come to her senses she had to squint to be able to see herself in the barroom mirror on the wall in front of her. Once she had focused her eyes, she saw the slight blurry reflection of her once fierce and cocky face. She had always been proud of her looks, even though she knew there were others that looked better than she did. But now her face had changed into a troubled face, with watery eyes and no signs of her tan, because at the moment she looked as pale as a sheet… in fact, her face rather accurately resembled the state she was in. Her stomach turned when she thought of Jack and the soulless, breast-less stick figure that was now playing dirty games with HER man…

* * *

Jack followed his newest conquest to her room upstairs. "Ye're in luck Captain, I be the best in the trade," she giggled while she seductively raised her skirts to reveal her slender, milky white calves as she climbed the narrow staircase. This had the desired affect on Jack because he admired the view of her legs as he walked behind her, he found that he couldn't wait to get between them. He remembered how Devon's face lurked constantly in the back of his mind, and knew of the emotions that accompanied that image, so he ignored them best he could and decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. After all, she had thrown herself at that bastard bartender, and now it was his chance to return the favour. A quickie was just a quickie after all, and a quick release of pressure was sometimes the best way to clear one's head. And there would be no problems because he and the vixen weren't together. There was no guilt to hang over his head. This was just a quickie. Nothing more than that. And needless-to-say, releasing pressure in this particular way was quite convenient, not to mention pleasurable, for Jack Sparrow.

The wench, who had reached the top of the stairs, took a brass key out of her bodice where it had been nestled between her perky breasts and opened the lock from one of the rooms. She stepped inside and lit a lamplight on her bedside table. The room was small, not to mention that it reeked slightly, and was dressed with only the bare necessities. A bed naturally, a washbowl, a chair and a stack of towels. The girl sat herself on the bed and within seconds Jack was beside her. He sniffed her hair, though he could only discern a hint of soap amidst the smell of smoke and liquor. As he did this he found that he couldn't help but think about the dark hair he had sniffed last night… Devon smelled completely different. She smelled salty like the ocean, a scent he loved and could never get enough of, and she smelled of gin the last time he had sniffed her hair and he recalled that she smelled - and tasted - even better. There was something about Devon's odour that made him feel… _she made him FEEL!_ As the girl next to him stroked his back and began to unbutton his waistcoat, he broke from his reverie. All the thoughts of Devon were shoved in the back of his mind for the time being as he watched her long slender fingers undo his buttons. Not that there were all that much buttons to undo on that, mind you, but she did it smiling and skilfully, giving him a nice view down her bodice in the process, where her small breasts were greeting him. He smiled down at them, but after a few moments he was comparing them to the ones that he held, nibbled, sucked and licked the other night. Granted, a small handful might have been enough for most men, but Captain Jack Sparrow preferred them to be bigger and firmer than the average handful... _firm like Devon's_...

He looked at the grey-eyed blonde who watched him and realized his mind had wandered yet again... and he was comparing the girl to the woman downstairs once more. The woman downstairs that he had fallen in love with…. _Oh. Bloody. Hell. _

_Lord, what am I doin' 'ere?_

Meanwhile said woman was downstairs and almost completely wasted, drinking herself into a sweet oblivion. Devon had been a heavy drinker for years and had a well-trained liver, and therefore she could hold more liquor than the average man. But even now, Devon felt her body protesting to more alcohol – perhaps a sign that she should switch to lighter drinks. But despite the ciphers her body sent to her brain, Devon kept on drinking the pure rum in an attempt to smother the pain that was gleefully wreaking havoc inside of her.

She hated Jack Sparrow for bringing her down to this. Here she sat, wallowing in self pity, a sobbing mess. She was stuck in the vertigo of her hazy mind and all she could think about was how Jack was somewhere above her fucking the brains out of that blonde bitch. The Devon she had been before she had met Jack Sparrow wouldn't have cared less about her former lovers moving on to their next victim because Devon was always the first to leave, first to move on, first to conquer another lover before they did. But this was different, she knew in her heart it was. She didn't know how or when exactly it had happened, but despite her hazy state of mind, everything became crystal clear in an instant. All the pieces of the puzzle fell into place… Perhaps large amounts of liquor were what a woman like Devon needed to see things in perspective. She was actually in love. And _this,_ she reached up to clutch her chest for a moment, before resting her arm on the table. _This_ was heartache. Jack made her weak, Jack had made her see just how complete a man could make her feel, and Jack had made her crack. He tore down the wall she had so carefully constructed around her heart. He had crawled inside of her and had gotten under her skin, but the worst part of all was that he had made her fall in love with him. And now he was making her hurt… He gave her more pain than any bullet or knife possibly could have achieved.

Scars were visible on the outside and hurt, but Jack had scarred her heart, ripped it out and marred it before he gave her back pieces of it. It seemed that he had kept some of her heart for himself in the process, because Dee felt empty, and even in her drunken state she knew that something wasn't quite right about that. It was this "game" with the newest wench that had made her realize, there was no way in Hell he felt the same. Regardless of their similarities and regardless of what they had been through together, he wouldn't love her back.

Devon had entered the bar in a different state of mind then the one she normally found herself with… No other man had roused her interest, all she wanted was for that cocky flamboyant Captain to hold her and never let her go. This side of her had been shoved in the background ever since Frances Stewart had departed this world... Devon now was devastated, and had felt her guard break, just as her heart had done when he had spoken those words... he was going to fuck another woman, and not even a woman but a mere girl. A whore. A girl that looked like the complete opposite of her... Devon didn't feel like picking up another victim that she could screw or play her games with. For the first time in her years, there was only one man she wanted to make love to… but that man was currently having sex, without her. Devon sighed heavily, before taking another long swig of her rum. She was left here all alone, all alone in a crowd of people, with a disgusting feeling in the pit of her stomach... and rum in her hand as her only means of companionship.

"Dee, are ye alright?" she could vaguely hear Ana say, even though her friend was sitting right across from her. Devon realized she had gotten back to her seat, without even remembering how she had gotten back to it.

"Ne'er felt better, luv. Ne'er felt better!" she slurred while she managed to produce a weak smile and wave her hands about to show how "fine" she really was. Then a man approached her and placed his hands on the table, hovering between Ana and Devon. "How 'bouts ye two lovely ladies join me an' me mates at that table over there? Hmmmm?"

Ana opened her mouth to respond, but Devon beat her to it. "Piss off, ye wanker. All ye men are pigs an' not only do ye look one, but ye smell th' part as well... We ain't interested, savvy? Tho' if we were, we'd lash y'all ta a table an' have our nasty ways wit' ye sooner than yer dicks would know wha' hit ye! Tha' would teach ye…" she snapped and when Devon tried to reach for her pistol, Ana reached over the table and forced her hands down, giving Devon a stern look.

"Don't ye dare, Devon!" then she looked over her shoulder and addressed the man. "Sorry, 'bout that, but me friend here is having her monthlies an' since she isn't quite her charming and lovely self just now, we'll just have to decline yer offer, lest you have a death wish mate…"

The man looked blankly between the two lady pirates and then turned on his heel, shrugging his shoulders and strolling off back towards his mates.

"I don't 'ave me monthlies Ana! An' ye know tha' all men are bastards... tha' wha' they be an' I hate 'em all fer it! Maybe I'll just join a convent an' swear 'em off fer good!" Devon hissed, her words slurring together in a spectacular way.

Ana shook her head at her friend and suppressed a chuckle. The day that Devon Duville swore off men would be the day cows flew.

As Jack unbuckled his belt and untied his sash, he saw the petite blonde harlot spread her legs and pull up her skirts. She gave him a very nice view of her lace knickers that were tied around her thighs with red ribbons. He kneeled down on the bed in front of her and pulled them down slowly. He desperately tried not to listen to that annoying voice in his mind, the one that was telling him to return downstairs and tell Duville how he really felt, how he really wanted to make sweet hot and steamy love to her, instead of this blonde professional.

Not that it was a torture to bone the girl, who was currently lying semi-naked in front of him, but he felt… _guilty_? Was that a good word to describe the feeling welling up inside of him? He shook the thought out of his head and leaned down to kiss the girl whose name he had already forgotten. She returned his kiss, but the passion he had felt when kissing Devon was missing. It was a routine kiss, the kiss of a wench. Jack couldn't help comparing her to Devon yet again and realized there was something special about the raven piratess.

The woman he had wanted to give a little payback to, who made him tremble inside, who made his world rumble and who seemed to sense what he needed, what he wanted... He had enjoyed every moment of their lovemaking. He even seemed to get pleasure out of their fights and daily bickering. _Am I fallin' in love with the tart! Nay, can't be! I won't allow it!_

"Oy, Captain, are we going to do some business tonight, or are you going to keep starin' at the wall all night? Either way is fine by me so long as yer payin' me fee." The whore's voice brought him out of his reverie once more and he snapped back into reality.

Jack felt his mind needed a proper cleansing, so he shoved the front of his breeches down and trust inside of the blonde. This used to be one of his favourite pastimes, but now it seemed pointless, meaningless and dull. This girl might be the best in the trade, but he knew what passion felt like, what it tasted like and how wild it could be, because Devon had shown him. She had shown him just how hot and breathtaking it could be, when two talented dancers danced the forbidden dance... _This_ was nothing compared to what _she _could do to him. When he finally ejaculated after a very long time, he saw Devon's face smile at him mischievously and he felt even guiltier than he had before. The sizzling feeling orgasms usually gave him didn't come. All he felt was the weight of a canon on his chest.

When Jack Sparrow pulled up his pants and dressed himself he realized he had found the one… his match… and said woman was downstairs and more than likely rubbing up every bloke in the tavern while he was here, having insignificant intercourse with a woman that did it for the money... with a woman he didn't _care_ for and who he shouldn't have been with in the first place. He casually tossed a few shillings on the bed and made his exit... While he did so he felt his heart sink in his boots. _This was a big mistake… possibly th' biggest in me life… I need ta find Devon, now. Oh God, what've I done?_

_

* * *

_

"Good god, you're SO jealous... You be in love with him! Yet ye let him take another upstairs…. That jus' don't make sense Spitfire…" Ana said to her pale, red eyed friend, while she reached over the table to stop her as she tried to finish off the rum with one gulp.

"Lemme drink, Ana.. I be needin' this real bad righ'now an' ye knows tha'…" Dee hissed, her words slurring together even more than before.

"What you need Dee, is some fresh air, tha' an' ye need ta come clean about Sparrow. Even a blind person can see yer in love with 'im! I've never seen ye look at a man, any man fer tha' matter, the way ye look at him. I dunno what went on b'tween ye, but knowin' you an' knowin' him, I have a pretty good idea o' what went on b'tween the two 'o ye…. Now let's get ye outside…" Ana spoke with determination, concern lacing her harsh voice. She got up from her chair and waved at Gibbs, so that maybe he could help her get Devon outside into the cool air.

Gibbs came over and hooked his arm through Devon's and pulled her up. Devon swayed and squinted her eyes at the smallest member of the Black Pearl's crew, the midget. "Well... ye be a handsome bugger, ain't ye? Fancy a go? I mean Sparrow's gettin' some, so why not us eh? By th' powers, ye might be th' only man on th' face o' this godforsaken earth tha' can lick me while standin' up," she drawled while she clung to Gibbs like a wet shirt to a bare torso. "Oh… an' jus' look at this hunk o' steel," her voice slurring more while looking up at him, "…I like men wit' facial hair…"

The pirates' eyes grew wide and both men, large and small, looked at Ana for support or clarification. Ana shrugged her shoulders, "She's horny as a toad or at least thinks she is, loaded ta the gun walls, a lil' more then usual, an' she be needin' some fresh air, mates. Help me get her out."

Gibbs nodded and moved her towards the door, while Devon wound some of the hair from his beard around her finger and giggled. "Hmmm I really like men with facial hair... 'ave I e'er told ye tha'?" then she stumbled and almost pulled Gibbs and AnaMaria down with her, but then there were two more hands that grabbed her shoulders just in time.

It was the bartender.

"Dee, lass, ye need to sit yerself down," Victor said while he patted her cheek to make her look at him. Her vision was still blurry when she tried to focus on the dancing orbs in front of her. Victor nodded towards a bench near the door and Ana and Gibbs helped him set her down. "Leave it ta me, I've known 'er fer years, ye go 'n enjoy yer last night ashore... she'll be fine, don't worry… Though I must say I've ne'er seen 'er in such a state... she's known ta hold her liquor quite well… or at least in her younger years she was…"

Devon's eyes were desperately trying to focus onto one object, but she failed and all the items and people around her were a hazy blur, one that wouldn't stop swaying and floating about. "Vic? 's tha' ye? Would ye be a dear an' stop movin' yer arse about, stand still, ye're makin' me dizzy…"

"Nice ta know I still 'ave that effect on ye," he said hoarsely, knowing the odds had turned in his favour. The chances of him really reuniting with her had just doubled, maybe even tripled.

"No, I'm serious, stop tha' movin' about, I'm gonna be sick…" Devon stood up, swaggered over to the door, somehow managed to open it and fell through the doorpost and heaved. She crawled forward and she felt that her hair was now pulled out of her face and a hand was being placed on her shoulder and was rubbing it gently.

"Oy mate, hands off her, I've known her fer years… she's mine, I'll take care of her."

"No mate, that's where your mistaken, she's a member of me crew, I'm her Capt'n, I'll take it from here!" and he continued to rub her back ''S alrigh' tart, I dunno how much exactly ye had ta drink, but by wha' Ana told me, ye might 'ave drunk a barrel… let it all out… 's gonna be alrigh', I'm here now…" _An' by God I wish I had been here the whole time…._

And then Devon heaved again… she vaguely recognized the voice and somewhere in her brain the familiarity of that touch from those hands registered… she wiped her mouth with her sleeve and squinted up to see if it really was him… and… _Oh bloody Hell…. _It was… sure, there were three of him and his faces were blurry, but it really was him. Everything started spinning and Devon felt embarrassed, wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole. Moments later she passed out… her face falling into a large puddle of mud.

She was picked up and carried over the cobblestones towards the docks. The strong arms were wrapped tighter around her when a gangplank was crossed. Two lighter footsteps and four even lighter ones were following close behind.

"She's me friend, an' I love 'er 'n all, but she ain't gonna share a bunk with me in this state, jus' so ye know!" Ana hissed.

"No worries, luv, she's gonna stay wit' me, ye can watch the dog…"

AnaMaria raised her hands heavenward…. "You are TOO generous! 'Cmon then Bullet…let's hit the sack." The dog followed Jack and sniffed his feet. When Jack looked down, he instantly knew why Devon was that attached to it. Jack realized the dog was worried about the wellbeing of its mistress and he was moved by that thought. His voice softened as he spoke to the dog… "Sorry buddy, but ye can't follow 'ere, yer mistress needs rest. Go with Ana, she'll take care o' ye… Go on…." The dog's head was lopsided while Jack spoke, as if it really understood Jack's words. Then it looked at Devon one last time, shook itself and followed AnaMaria down the stairs.

As Jack reached his chambers he set Devon down in one of his chairs and cleaned her face with fresh water... even though Devon was pale as death, her face still glowed like a torch. He slowly buttoned down her vest and removed her artillery from inside her vest. Then he carefully laid her on the bed, so he could remove her boots. Devon groaned when she was placed on the soft mattress and Jack smiled down on her. "I dunno jus' 'ow much ye drank there vixen, but I've ne'er seen ye this quiet. Or looking so innocent fer tha' matter."

When Jack tugged at her boots, she twitched her lip and groaned again. "Sjack Sjparrowz sgonna pay fer makings me – hiccup – look like fool. Goodfernuthin' pieze 'o sjit." –hiccup-. She opened her eyes for a moment and looked at him with glazed eyes "Oy ye with 't bwaids… ye look like 't bastat… goway… whes merum?" she raised her hand and it floated and moved in front of Jack's face for a few moments, then it flopped back down on the mattress and she was out again.

"Devon I'm so sorry…. I didn't want ta… ye-know… an' all I could think o' was ye…. All th' while… honestly. And…" Jack frowned and ceased his one-sided conversation… feeling relieved she wasn't able to hear his apology… It wasn't very "Captain-like" after all, to excuse oneself for perfectly normal behaviour. Well, it had been perfectly normal behaviour for Jack in the past. But now… he was feeling what? _Guilty? _Guilty, yes… that was definitely how he felt. He felt exactly the same way that he had felt Captaining the _Liberty,_ as though he was cheating on his _Pearl_. And now? Now, he had cheated on Devon. _Gobledygook, we ain't together… I don' need ta feel guilty.. I did nothin' wrong!_ He thought. But while looking at the sleeping form of Devon, currently sprawled out on his bed, the feeling gnawed at him again.. _Oh God, I really am in love aren't I?_ He asked himself, eyes heavenward. The feeling in the pit of his stomach when he briefly touched her full lips with his fingertips told him the answer... the answer he couldn't deny any longer.

Jack put his emotions aside for the time being, he'd figure them out later. Right now, Devon needed to be attended to.

He pulled on her left boot to remove it from her foot. He had to pull really hard, and in his enthusiasm he almost pulled Devon off the bed. Then he decided to straddle her, his backside turned to her face, to remove it that way, so he could use his own weight to help keep her steady. When he climbed the bed, and placed himself on top of her, he couldn't help but feel aroused... He shrugged it off and started working on the boot again... once it was off he tossed it on the floor. When he tugged on the other boot, he saw something inside the worn leather…. It seemed to be a piece of parchment... when he pulled the boot off, the parchment fell out, Jack briefly spotted her ankle tattoo again, but then he focused on the parchment, which appeared to be a rather large roll of paper.. _Why 't hell would she keep a roll o' paper in 'er boot? And why ain't I seen tha' b'fore? Devon ye wicked little devil ye… yer hidin' some sort o' map from me an' it takes ye ta be completely drunk an unconscious fer me ta find it…._

He kissed her brow and slowly climbed off her, careful not to wake her, but the sound of her slight snoring was very assuring to him in that she wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon...

"Now, now, ye little betrayin', secretive minx... thought ye'd trick ole Jack an' keep secrets from me, eh?" he whispered, eyes gleaming, while he walked over to his desk and spread the strange map out in front of him.

"Well… well…. What 'ave we got 'ere?"

To Be Continued…

_**A/N II Reviews are great! Lemme know what you guys think!**_

Until next time,

Love from Holland

- The DuTchess of Doom-


	25. Thunder & Enlightening

_Disclaimer: Regardless of how hard I try, plead and beg… it's still not mine._

**E/n: I really am sorry lovelies. It really sucks when real life constantly intervenes and gets in the way of doing the things you love. (Not that I don't love my major, but me being a perfectionist and an overachiever just takes up so much of my time.) I hope you can forgive the two of us … it really isn't easy to edit as much as I'd like, but we'll never give up with the story so long as our muses are around. And thanks again for sticking with us – we love you all! Xoxo Linnie**

A/N Firstly it took me about a month and a half to write this chapter. After a month I had written a rough draft and then I started working and fiddling with that until I was confident enough to send it to Linnie. Then it has taken her about another month and a half to edit it (editing in the broadest sense of the word). So this chapter has taken up almost four months in all. While you had to wait two of those months before you could read it. So remember, if you have to wait, we're not doing it on purpose… sometimes things don't go as we'd like. If I could have it my way, I would do this for my living and no one would ever have to wait for as long as you have, but since that unfortunately is not the case… we've all got to learn to live with it!

Now please go and read…

**Chapter 25**

**Thunder & Enlightening**

"_Relationships lost on a stormy sea _

_I hold on to you _

_just hold on to me _

_when the lightning strikes _

_you hear the thunder roaring _

_and you don't know for how long _

_this will go on _

_but I know I still love you _

_and I know you still care _

_so keep on trying when you're sure you still love me _

_a sea of love _

_don't let it drown us _

_we're way too far from shore _

_as we go deeper _

_as the wind grows stronger _

_it tries to tip us over _

_but we both learned how to swim _

_so lets just go on …"_

_- Anouk - __Fallen Sun -_

When Devon awoke, it felt as though her head was locked in a vice and her mouth felt like it was made of well-worn leather… it was then that she felt a weight shift besides her. She slowly opened her eyes, but it seemed that her eyes did not want to cooperate with her this morning since all she could see was a blurry mixture shapes and colors. _Like tha's a real big 'elp ta me when I would like ta know where th' bloody 'ell I am! _The weight moved again, and moved nearer to her this time. She could feel the heat drawing closer. She wasn't sure what it could be until she felt an arm possessively slung around her waist and felt something hard poking her in her lower back. Devon bit on her lower lip… there was something awfully familiar about this situation. Her nose also picked up a familiar scent, but in her current situation, she didn't think that familiarity was necessarily a good thing. Actually, no it was not a good thing at all.

As she narrowed her eyes to attempt to gather any information from her surroundings, any of the familiarity she had previously, vanished instantly. She was somewhere she had never been before… Though when she realised that there was a slight rocking motion beneath her, she found that it eased her nerves somewhat. When she was finally able to see clearly, her gaze traveled along the beautifully decorated room she was in. There was ornately carved wood everywhere, and the wood was so dark that it seemed almost black. _Ebony… jus' gorgeous…._

She was pulled from her reverie rather abruptly when she felt the arm wrap tighter around her waist. Now that she could see she risked a turn of her head to see who it was next to her… When she did, her nose barely missed someone else's – _Jack's_ to be exact – who was sprawled out naked beside her. _Good God, how did this happen... AGAIN? __She was appalled… pure astonishment was clearly displayed on her face. During this moment of shock, something clicked in her mind and she quickly slid her hands back under the covers to check if she had clothes on. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt clothing underneath her fingertips… _she smoothed her hands down her blouse and her breeches, nothing was out of place, save the buttons are her blouse that were opened. To her surprise she could even feel that she was still wearing her boots. _Wha' in th' Hell is goin' on 'ere? He be naked yet I be clothed, an' to top it off we're in a bed together... AGAIN! But th' question still remains: Where th' devil are we? __Her mind was working overtime attempting to figure this all out, when she suddenly__ remembered the map hidden inside her boot. She slowly slid her leg up, she felt inside the leather for the map, and found that it was still in its place. Devon was relieved, but still very uncomfortable while she remained in this position with Jack. She tried to shift herself into_ an upright position so that she could look around, but even with the slightest movement her head pounded hellishly. _Scratch tha' idea… _She couldn't help but let herself fall back down on the mattress. _Damn th' darned rum. I'm ne'er gonna drink a single drop 'gain!_

'Mornin', luv... Feelin' better are ye?' Jack whispered, his voice hoarse as he twirled a strand of her hair between his bejeweled fingers. Last night he had studied the strange map for a while, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. So he called it a night, put the map back in its place, undressed himself and had snuggled close to Devon's warm body in the bed. First he had found it difficult to get any sleep… tossing and turning for hours, and it wasn't even because of the map oddly enough, but because of what he had done earlier in the night. Feeling Devon so close to him only made him feel guiltier about the whore. But when she had turned around and had snuggled into him, her head on his chest, his thoughts drifted away slowly and he finally fell asleep.

'Dunno 'bout better… given tha' I feel like me head's 'bout ta explode – an' where th' devil are we by th' way? An' why is it tha' I am with ye again?' she asked as she rubbed her temples, as some of the events from the night before began to fall surreptitiously back in place in her mind. 'An' would ye please stop fiddlin' wit' me hair? It hurts…'

He grinned when he saw a most adorable frown grace her angered face, 'Firstly, yer head might feel tha' way 'cause ye drank 'bout a barrel o' rum las' night… Secondly, due ta tha' heavy drinkin' o' yers, ye got quite sick, heaved an' passed out, so therefore ye 'ad ta be transported over 'ere by means o' me strong, masculine arms… An' thirdly, this here is me quarters. Yer on th' Pearl… th' fastest an' most beautiful ship in th' whole Caribbean.'

'Just bloody wonderful…' she said flatly, as more flashes of last night came back to her. When she recalled the blonde stick figure in her thoughts she sprung out of bed, a bit too fast for her own good, and she had to hold her head in her hands because the pain was nauseating. She stumbled and fell backwards on the soft mattress that Jack still occupied.

'I'd take things easy if I were ye, luv…' he whispered. He knew all too well how much he hated to be yelled at or even spoken to in a normal tone of voice when he was in a similar position. He looked at her and reached up to tuck a loose curl behind her ear. 'I mean a hangover like th' one ye undoubtedly 'ave, is not a thin' ta be taken lightly…'

Devon pushed herself back up from the bed again, leaning heavily on the mattress with one hand and holding on to the bedpost with the other. No sooner had she finally got her to stand, when all the memories from the night before came back to her. She growled when she could finally remember why it was that she had that much to drink that night. 'Ye shut yer filthy mouth 'bout las' nigh'! Tis _ye_ an' ye alone tha' is th' cause o' all o' this!' Her head pounded more and more and she felt a sharp pain between her eyes. 'Good God, me skull's 'bout ta burst…'

'Me? Ye gulped it down yerself, I wasn't even there, sunshine,' he defended as he flashed her one of his golden smiles. But that smile vanished as soon as he saw her beautiful eyes turn to ice, with feelings of hatred and vengeance swirling in their depths… The canon weight he had felt last night after he had bedded the whore and left the room, instantly dropped back on his chest.

Devon's anger was building up inside her at an alarming rate, she was so angry that she didn't give a damn whether she should keep her mouth shut at the moment or not. She wanted him to be on the receiving end of her anger because she knew that he undoubtedly deserved it. 'Me point exactly! Ye had ta go an' screw tha' stick-insect while everyone was downstairs!' she hissed, grabbing her vest off a chair and trying to put it on. 'Ye make me sick!' She struggled as she tried to get her arms into the openings, but in state, her reflexes weren't much better than her mood, so she failed and fidgeted with the leather for a while, getting even more dizzy, nauseated and angry in the process.

Jack stood up, not caring about his current state of undress and tried to aid her, but when he attempted to take her vest from her, she turned and forcefully drover her index finger in his naked chest. 'Ye stay th' hell away from me, Sparrow. Ye've done quite 'nough as it is. Stay away from me or I won't even try to reign in my temper anymore!' The look in her eyes was more then lethal and the glare she gave him was as cold as ice. Jack scrutinized that look, but was horrified at how the intensity of it increased dramatically as he did so. Not even in their first fight, the one where they had both gained scars, had she looked at him in such a way. She was entirely too hostile at the moment. He let go of the leather and Devon snatched her vest back from him instantly, threw it on, and even though that took some time and another two attempts, she ended up wearing it inside out. She couldn't have cared less. Devon cursed and swore in various languages while she swaggered towards the doors and finally stumbled out. When she stopped for a moment to take a breath of the fresh air, she noticed the sun had just begun to rise. Truthfully nothing really mattered to Devon right now. Normally she would marvel at the sight, and the glorious image it created … but she was too far gone to bother. After she stormed out, Jack remained in the cabin, staring blankly at the door. 'Wha' th' hell was tha'?' he muttered to himself as he tried to figure out what the hell had just gone wrong.

As Devon sauntered towards the sterndeck, she cursed the mere existence of Captain Jack Sparrow the Barbarian.

Meanwhile the barbarian himself got dressed, muttering to himself… 'She's beyond angry with me, not that this is new at all, but what did I do? I did help her did I not? I put her in me own bed fer chrissakes, what more does she want? What I did was my business alone an' that's got nothin' ta do with her…'

AnaMaria had gone to her Captain's quarters to wake him, but found him already awake, half-dressed, and rambling to himself. Since she was just standing there she couldn't help but overhear what he was saying and thought that since the door was open anyway, she would go in and offer her two cents on the matter.

'And ye be so sure tha' was all ye did to 'er Jack? Capt'n? … I mean SIR?' Ana corrected herself instantly. 'Ye went upstairs wit' tha' harlot ta get back at her. Didn't ye?'

Jack sighed heavily, while he buckled his belt and turned around. 'I went upstairs with 'er 'cause I felt like it. It's not like I haven't done it countless o' times b'fore. 'Sides tha' I don't believe I owe ye an explanation fer what I do Ana. Now if you'll excuse me… It might 'ave slipped yer attention fer a moment there, but I 'ave work ta do an' so do ye.'

'I've seen th' way ye look at 'er, Jack… Ye look at 'er th' way ye look at yer Pearl. There's no sense in denying it, I know ye care fer her…'

'Bollocks,' he spat back, while his eyelid twitched as he denied her statement. Then he shoved her unceremoniously out of his way and staggered through the double doors. _I don't look at the tart the way I looks at me Pearl… do I?_

Ana was left behind astonished. She had seen the slight twitch his eyelid had made when she had referred to the way her Captain had glanced at her childhood friend. Not only that, but she had seen a brief flash of pain behind Jack's dark eyes. It was then that AnaMaria knew she had been right, there was more going on between her Captain and Devon Duville than met the eye. And as for her Captain, it was quite clear to her that Jack Sparrow regretted last night…. And as astonishing as that was, it didn't make any sense to her… Jack Sparrow had never looked at a woman that way… none of his many woman had gained a look of … approval… from Jack. Ana crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned heavily against the doorframe as she contemplated all of this, then she called after him.

'Capt'n?'

He turned around to meet her gaze. 'Aye?'

'Ye may not owe me an explanation, ye don't even 'ave ta answer me question, really. But I do 'ave somethin' else ta say. An' tha' be tha' ye owe _her_ an explanation at least, Jack. Regardless o' what ye did… ye still _did_ it, an' she obviously cares 'nough 'bout ye ta drink herself off th' map 'cause o' it. Ye should talk things over with 'er. I mean if she's ta stay 'board th' Pearl fer a while as ye've informed us, it won't be pleasant ta 'ave 'er in a right mood th' entire journey. I know Devon's temper… either talk ta 'er or be sure ta lock yer cabin doors an' get used ta sleepin' wit' one eye open…ifen ye gets me meanin…'

Jack nodded his head slightly and walked away from his first mate wordlessly. She was right… he had hurt Duville much more than he had intended. He had never thought she cared about what he did or didn't do that much… but from Ana's little lecture, he knew he had to talk to her. _Hell, but not right now, she'll shred me inta tiny pieces an' feed me ta th' fishes… Best ta let 'er cool off a bit, Jack…_

Devon was grateful that the fog that lingered over Tortuga still covered the ship in a veil of grey as she fled from that bastard of a Captain. Her heart pounded in her throat and she had to fight back her anger, else she would have slit his throat in a heartbeat. How could he be such an ass? And worse, how could she have fallen for him only to end up completely whacked over the head with these stupid and most unwanted feelings of hers.

She huffed, strolling across the maindeck toward the bow of the ship, Bullet following close behind. The Frenchie was one of the most sensitive breed of dogs, and because it sensed Devon was in pain, it never left her side. When Devon reached down to pet it, it licked her hands and nudged its head against her palm.

Gibbs, who was busy working the ropes, greeted the muttering woman, a bit of unsure how to react to a seemingly annoyed and hung-over female. 'Mornin' Miss Duville, feelin' any better now are ye?' he studied the woman's features, as best he could at any rate, due to the fog. She seemed distant in a way, she didn't look at him at first, but all she did was stare into the fog as if the fog held all the answers. Then she mumbled,

'J'espère qu'il tombe mort et obtient mangé par les grands oiseaux,' [I hope he drops dead and gets eaten by big birds,] which caused Gibbs to stare even more, now truly confused by the woman who made him feel a little uncomfortable to say the least. There was some quality about this woman that he had seen before. The way she moved herself, the way her dark blue eyes could look right through a person... he was certain that before that one night in Tortuga he had never seen the woman before in his life, but something was so familiar about her... it reminded him of someone... He didn't like her, but then again, when he first got here he hadn't liked any of the Pearl's crew, including her Captain, at first… He shrugged his shoulders and walked away from the still muttering woman and her dog.

Devon worked, and tended to every cannon the Pearl possessed with devotion, despite her feelings. But she didn't speak of the reason for her mood, not to her dog, not to Ana, and especially not to Jack. She knew the best way to get over this, or HIM for that matter, was to find herself another man. The only problem with that solution was that she really didn't feel like it. Not that there weren't any other fine looking men aboard the Pearl, but to Devon there was only one man: Jack. And Jack had made it crystal clear to her that he didn't feel the same way about her. So Devon remained silent, hiding the pain that was slowly suffocating her on the inside. She was afraid that if she did speak, either her voice would crack and give away her true emotions, or she would say too much and make a fool of herself all over again. She might be in pain, but Hell she still had her pride!

Jack on the other hand was barking an' roaring orders, along with a stream of curses to anyone who even blinked at the wrong time according to the Captain. But he hadn't shared a word with the piratess who was working under his command for the moment. She followed his orders, but she avoided his eyes and turned in early each night, while she spent said nights on Ana's cot. Jack slept alone in his bed every night, tossing and turning, while his conscience plagued his mind. If only he hadn't fucked that strumpet, Devon would be in his bed, keeping him warm, keeping him in shape... but now, because he had made one foolish mistake, he was here alone in a cold bed and all he could think of was the woman he had grown so damned fond of.

Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't handle his guilt, and one of the reasons for that was because he had never once felt guilty over anything in his life before. His motto used to be that "one only regrets the things one did not do." Well, in this case Jack wished he hadn't done it. Every time he had watched Devon fulfill her tasks in silence and every time he saw her face while she did it, he felt a lump in his throat. He felt like he could suffocate any minute. He knew he had hurt her, and although he had meant to do so at first, he had no idea that his actions would have this effect on her. And seeing her now, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and never let her go. The games they were playing were so childish, he realised that now. But he was too proud to give in. Jack Sparrow did not grovel for a woman, any woman for that matter.

Devon on the other hand, had her own battle to fight. She was infuriated by Jack's actions back in Tortuga, but she also knew that there was no reason to be. They had shared some wonderful nights together, spent carefree days in each others company and they had enjoyed each day and night fighting and making up, but there was nothing between them. No relationship what-so-ever, and that gave Jack the freedom to do as he pleased. "No strings attached, no guarantees" – hadn't that been _her_ exact words the first night they had spent together? She didn't want a commitment, she wanted fun. So why the devil was she this upset about it?

The pain from her constant thoughts about the situation was starting to become too much for her to handle, so she shoved the feelings aside and turned her thoughts to her rage at Jack.

Several days had passed and there had been nothing more between the two of them other than a few sideways glances and complete silence. The whole crew walked on tiptoes, because they feared an explosion of either one of them any minute, but to their utter shock, the eruption never came. The silence was perhaps the worst, in Ana's opinion. For she knew, more than most of the others, that neither Jack nor Devon were the kind of person to accept or partake in a silent treatment. They both had a way with words, but now... they talked to everyone on board, except each other. The silence carried over even to the dinner table, where Jack sat at the head of the table and Devon sat across from him. Devon constantly played with her food, simply shoving it across her tin plate, and barely eating... she didn't touch her wine and hardly talked to anyone. Gibbs, who had started to warm up to Dee over the last few days, sat beside her and nudged her side. 'Ye alrigh' lass? Methinks ye look a bit pale... an' yer awfully quiet.'

'I be fine,' was all she said, but it was the way she said it that had him convinced she most definitely was not. He glanced from the woman next to him to his Captain, whom he had noticed wasn't acting like his usual self either. Jack had had been a pain in the butt to be around since they left Tortuga, no one could please him and all he did was shout and bark at his crew, when usually he was a fair and just Captain with a warm heart.

'Gibbs…' the Captain spoke from his left.

'Aye?'

'Ask Duville if she wants to pass the salt ta me.'

All the pirates present fell silent and stared at their Captain, when he said nothing more, their eyes shifted to look at the female pirate who had recently become a member of their crew.

Gibbs stared back at Jack. 'Ye can ask 'er yerself Capt'n, she be sittin' right across from ye.'

The look Joshamee Gibbs received from his Captain was positively burning with rage. Jack's hands trembled and he shoved back his chair then he raised his voice. Gibbs hadn't heard Jack sound like this in a long while, the voice that Jack shouted in was a voice that gave everyone cold chills. 'I am a CAPTAIN an' if I bloody ask fer something ta be passed or handed ta me, I need ta have said thing passed ta me instantly, savyy? An' if it's salt tha' I want from tha' WOMAN I will get salt from tha' woman!'

Gibbs turned to Devon. 'Wha's wrong with 'im?'

Devon eyes turned cold as she shoved her beans across her plate and threw her fork down onto the table. 'Yes, if th' _Captain_ wants somethin' from a woman, he just goes on takes it, 'cause he hasn't a care fer anyone else but 'imself!' Then she shoved her chair back, nearly hurling it against the wall, and stormed out of the galley. Jack watched her stalk away then huffed and turned to look at his crewmates, but they all stared blankly back at him.

Then Jack picked up his hat and walked toward the bridge. He could see the outlines of her figure standing out slightly, even in the dark and when some of the crew were already back on deck attending to their duties. For the amount of people there was on deck, it was eerily silent around the lonesome figure leaning on the railing of the forecastle. It was while he stared at her, the wind picked up and a single raindrop splashed on the tip of his nose. By the time he looked up, the raindrops had multiplied and the rain set in. He put his hat on top of his unruly hair, pulled it over his eyes and tucked the collar of his jacket further round his neck. His hands grabbed the pegs of the wheel and he barked his orders to the crew, 'Weigh anchor an' set th' sails! An' be quick 'bout it ye scabbarous dogs!' The deck soon bustled with action, but the female figure remained motionless.

Devon chewed on her bottom lip as a tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. As she felt it slide down, she didn't feel like stopping it. It felt so good to finally let it out. Thankfully when she looked heavenward, droplets of the warm summer rain came pouring down and were mingling with the tears that were trailing down her cheeks. It was then that Devon finally cried the tears she thought she would never cry… at least not over something as insignificant as a man.

While Jack Sparrow was trying to make sense of all of the thoughts that were running through his head, Devon felt somewhat calmed by the rain and the chance to finally free herself from all the pain that she had tucked so far inside. When she wiped her cheeks dry with her sleeve, she looked up to study the sky. A dark formation of clouds had started to gather above them. The once bright blue sky was darkening by the minute. However, the sky didn't just get a darker shade of blue, but the sky had turned an eerie shade of green. Devon tensed, for she knew there was a storm coming up… a big one.

'Drop canvas!' she heard Jack bellow. And before she could think twice, she was up in the rigging with Ana, untying the ropes of the topsail, while others were working on the other sails.

Within a manner of seconds the wind picked up and Devon felt the mast swaying along with her stomach. Big waves crashed against the black wood of the Pearl. The ship protested, and her wood cracked ominously, but she rode every strong wave as it came. Waves washed over the deck and all the crewmen secured their safety-lines to the ship.

Devon gazed up at the dark ominous clouds gathering above them. She felt the ship rocking more and more wildly, and looked around her for a rope to lash herself to the railing, but just when she was about to turn to look elsewhere, she was caught by a wave that took her from behind and smashed her hard into the railing in front of her. Her chest hurt from the force of the wave, but she managed to get back on her feet again. She winced a bit as she breathed in. When she sucked air into her lungs, she felt a strange and sharp pain. _Ribcage… damn like I don't 'ave enough ta worry 'bout... _She shoved the pain in her chest to the back of her mind as she tried to see, but the rain and the waves caused her vision to become blurry and her eyes to sting. Another wave came over the deck, and Devon was shoved into the railing again, but this time her head collided with the hard wood of the Pearl. Then she was washed forward towards the staircase which led to the bridge. A track of crimson was making its way down her face, but she didn't notice. The only thought running through her mind was an alarm of panic and the fact that she needed to grab hold of something – and quick!

Devon's head was pounding louder than ever and now she had lost her balance completely. She tried to crawl towards the staircase, but then yet another wave came in, knocking her off balance once more. Devon could make out Jack's words coming from above her. 'Hold 'er steady mates… she can hold! Make sure th' ropes don't come loose! Where be Duville?'

His dark eyes scanned the deck, between the waves of the ocean… on his ship and around it. He could see that his men working and holding his Pearl on course the best they could. He spotted AnaMaria on the sterndeck, tightening the knots in the ropes. But no matter how hard his eyes searched for _her_, they found crewmates, but not the hellcat.

'DUVILLE! BLAST IT WOMAN, WHERE ARE YE?'

He heard a hiccupping and a gulping sound coming from below him, and just when he saw a black mess of tangled wet hair float by, another wave came and swept her over the railing.

'Duville, NOOOOO!'

Devon grabbed hold of the first thing she could reach, a piece of the ropes from the shrouds, her right hand flexed around it as she felt the rest of her body fling overboard. 'Goddamn slippery 'round these parts yer precious Pearl is, Jack,' she hissed, but her words got lost in the next wave that came crashing down on her.

'DUVILLE!' Jack shouted again, when he saw the bundle of leather hanging over the railing on the starboard side. He quickly tried to untie the rope he had lashed himself to the helm with, but when it didn't come loose quick enough, he took out his knife and cut it.

'Gibbs! Take the wheel – NOW! BE QUICK ABOUT IT!" he shouted, no it wasn't shouting, he was barking it at the top of his lungs. To his relief, his quartermaster came rushing as fast as he could, careful not to let go of the railing, and took his place at the helm.

'Brace yerself Gibbs!' he ordered him, before he was off to retrieve his fallen piratess…._ His? Ye be thinkin' in terms o' ownership now Jack?_

Another wave came, along with a roaring thunder that sounded across the deck. The force of the thunder silenced Jack's inner voice and Devon gulped as she felt her hand slip… she tried to pull herself back over, trying to latch on to whatever there was left of the rope, but she failed… and slid down another inch.

'Jack, help me,' her voice sounded frail…. It was no more than a whisper, but he heard it, or at least he imagined he had heard it.

When Devon's words faded, a strong hand came down and grasped her arm, clinging to it like a lions' claw. 'Hold on, darlin', don't bail out on me now… ye hear me?' He tried to lift her as another wave crashed down on him and he felt himself being shoved to the end of the railing. He held on to Devon with all the power he had. The waves crashed on top of them and he couldn't see much, but a flash of lightning illuminated her features for an instant. 'I love you…' he didn't know if he had spoken the words out loud or if he had said them in his mind. As she looked up at him, Devon tried to read his lips, but was too busy putting all of her concentration into hanging on to the hand that was holding her. _No… I'm not gonna die… Not now… not this way… _Inside her mind she repeated those lines like a mantra, and even though most of her strength had been drained from her body, her mind was not willing to let go.

'Can ye pull yerself up?' he shouted down to her.

'I'll try,' she retorted as her foot searched for something to stand on for support. But the Pearl's hull was too slippery and slick. There wasn't anywhere she could plant her boot down to get some leverage. Another big wave came crashing down on them and Jack tried to hold on to her, but then … her fingers slipped through his … he leaned over further … desperate to regain his hold on her, but all he found, was the spray of the crashing waves from the wild waters below them. One brief moment, he saw her face, but then it was gone…

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'

The cry rang across the deck and the hairs on Ana's neck stood on end. The sound was painstakingly heartbreaking. This was not good. Instantly AnaMaria cut her line and rushed forward, fighting the storm with all her might and trying not to get washed away herself.

'Capt'n? Ye alright?' she shouted.

Jack didn't respond. He just stared at the water below him. It was the very water that he loved so much, but now it was also the water that had taken the woman he loved from him.

Then reality hit him and without hesitating he threw off his waistcoat. Not did he even think twice before he jumped off the railing, diving into the cold sea after Devon. It was just like the time he had jumped off the railing of the Interceptor when Elisabeth had fallen from the rocks near Fort Charles. Only back then, the waters had been calm and he hadn't been emotionally attached. But now? At this point in time… he couldn't think straight… he was consumed with the sense of loss and fear. He now realised that he loved her, maybe even more than he had ever known possible. And now he could empathize with what Will must have felt all those years back when he had said he was willing to die for Liz. But there was something else he realised in that moment. Jack knew that he was not ready to loose her, not when he had only just found her… his match.

Gibbs rushed towards the railing and shouted after his Captain. 'Jack? Are ye daft? What is it tha' yer doin'? Ye're bound ta get yerself killed!'

The parrot on Cotton's shoulders squealed, 'Love … Knows … No … Bounds…'

But with everything that was going through his head at the time Jack didn't even hear Gibbs call to him and dove down in the dark coldness that surrounded him, searching for the only woman he ever truly loved. He searched under water for as long as the oxygen in his lungs could last, but when his lungs started to burn, he had to surface. He breathed deeply, taking in as much fresh air as he could in one gulp, then he dove down once more. His eyes stung as he opened them, due to the salt in the water no doubt, to look around for any sign of Devon. This was not happening, this was such a cruel twist of fate… he was not going to stand around and loose her. Not this way. Not when so much was left unsaid.

He kept swimming, not caring if there were sharks in these waters or not, he just knew that he needed to find her. Then his eyes were drawn to what looked like a bobbing black jellyfish on his right. When he swam toward it, he realised that it was Devon's hair… He dove forward, wrapping an arm around her as he kicked his legs upward. He surged on with inhuman strength, but even with that he still had trouble getting the pair of them up to the surface quickly… When he finally broke the top of the water, a fork of lighting bolted and illuminated the waves. Fortunately the wind had died down and the only thing that continued to be a threat to the Pearl and her crew was the thunderstorm.

Jack was spotted amongst the waves and immediately a line was tossed to him. He wrapped it around Devon's limp frame. Gibbs shouted to the rest of the crew, 'Heave!' and they all pulled. Devon was brought aboard and another line was tossed to Jack. Jack was hauled on deck in a manner of seconds. As soon as his feet hit the deck of his beloved ship, he rushed to Devon's side. The piratess remained motionless on deck. Her eyes were closed and she was not breathing. Jack quickly took out his knife, still breathing heavily himself, and cut through the tough leather, as he had done with Lizzie's corset all those years ago… But at the point when the pale, well-bred woman had started to cough up water, the piratess in his arms remained silent and flaccid. 'Don't do this ta me, ye hear? C'mon breathe!' he started pumping her chest as he breathed in air from his lungs into hers. 'Help me! She's dyin'!' he shouted to no one in particular.

All the pirates just stood on the deck in shock around their Captain and the woman sprawled out on deck in front of him. No one moved.

'Snap out o' it ye rabid dogs, don't just stand there like statues! Help me!' Jack shouted, and the fear in his voice was not lost on Gibbs or AnaMaria.

Ana was the first to rush to aid her Captain in reviving her friend, while Joshamee Gibbs took over the wheel. The darkness began to fade and small cracks of sunlight could be seen on the horizon.

Ana pressed Devon's chest, while Jack breathed air in her lungs. 'Don't do this to me, hellcat, don't die now… not this way!' he whispered before he took another breath of air.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity to Jack… she coughed and the water trapped in her lungs ran out of the corner of her mouth. When Devon finally showed sings of life, Jack really looked at her and immediately took notice of how blue she looked and how much she was trembling.

'Take 'er to me cabin, get Stitch, an' wrap 'er up nice 'n warm, I shall be there shortly,' his voice sounded steady and sharp, even though Jack felt like he was whispering, because of how shaken up he was from this whole ordeal.

Cotton and Morrano helped AnaMaria take Devon below deck to Jack's chambers and they put her in Jack's bed. Ana searched for as many blankets as she could find, and when she found them she sent the men away. She freed Devon from her wet garments and rubbed her dry with one of the blankets. 'Dee? Can ye hear me?' Ana asked while she continued to rub Devon warm. Devon didn't respond. She didn't even move. When Devon's skin started to look a more normal shade, meaning it was no longer blue, Ana put her in one of Jack's shirts and tucked her in. But when she was about turn to fluff her pillows, the trembling began again. Devon's body shook fervently and her teeth rattled.

Stitch, the ship's "doctor," came just in time. He examined Devon, checked her pulse and told Ana to keep her warm, and to make sure Devon remained laying horizontal on the bed. If she sat, or moved into a sitting position at all, she would draw the blood from her brain and that would cause shock in her extremely unstable state.

When Jack finally made it to his chambers, he relieved Ana from her watch over Devon, so that she could rest. It had been a hard day for all of them.

''Ow is she?' he asked gently while he glanced over Ana's shoulder to his bed.

'No change Jack. She's cold yet she sweats, her body trembles and she hasn't awoken yet.'

'What did Stitch say?'

'She's ta be kept warm and her fever has ta be cooled, said I needed to keep her brow cold with a wet cloth. She shouldn't be moved at all, and 'e also said tha' there was no tellin' when she'll wake up… could be hours, could be days… or…' Ana couldn't finish her sentence, but took the liberty to place a hand on Jack's shoulder.

'Thank ye, ye can go now,' he whispered.

Ana left and closed the door quietly behind her. Jack put his tri-cornered hat on his desk and let himself fall heavily into his armchair. He looked at the pale woman in his bed and felt helpless. He could outsmart the navy, win battles everyone deemed impossible to win, had defeated an un-dead crew of enemies, but seeing her like this… he didn't know what to do.

He got up again and rummaged through his desk, in search of his flask, his saviour at the moment. He uncapped it with one hand and took a firm swig. Then he walked over to his bed and sat himself down in the chair he had recently vacated. He took another swig and took Devon's limp hand in his own. Her hands were still callused, but Jack found that they looked so fragile now, in comparison with the strength they used to have. It seemed like they were smaller… breakable. He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the back of her hand. Then he placed her hand back on the bed sheets and went to replace the cloth on her forehead. He wringed the soaked cloth between his hands and felt the cool water slip along his fingers. He placed a fresh cloth on her brow and checked her pulse on her neck using his index and middle finger. _Thank God…_. He sighed in relief when he felt her heart beat. Even though the ship's "doctor," Stitch, had told him she'd make it if they kept her steady, lying still and warm, he felt as if she could slip away from him any time. She looked so helpless… and there was nothing he could do for her other than staying by her side until she decided to wake up. _If she ever wakes up…_

There was a short knock, and Jack actually took his eyes off of Devon and focused them onto his double doors for a brief moment.

'Enter,' he said, his gaze already looking back to the unconscious form of Devon.

'Capt'n we thought ye migh' be 'ungry an' we weren't sure if ye'd come down ta th' galley ta 'ave yer dinner… so then we thought tha' ye migh' want ta eat 'ere so tha' ye can keep an eye on 'er,' McDowell spoke while he looked from his Captain to the pale piratess in his Captain's bed.

Jack nodded, not even bothering to look back at McDowell, and waved his hand at the man, 'I'm not hungry… ye can just take it back.'

'But Capt'n, AnaMaria said tha' ye 'ave ta eat an' if ye told me ta take th' tray back again tha' I needed ta tell ye tha' ye'll be o' no help ta Miss Duville iffen ye fall ill…'

There was a half smile on Jack's lips at the comment McDowell relayed to him. _Meddlesome__ wench… _'Alrigh' McDowell, leave th' tray… an' ye can tell Ana I need 'er to take th' night shift.'

'Aye, Sir.'

McDowell put the tray on the desk, turned toward the doors to go out, but hesitated for a moment and asked, 'Capt'n?'

'Aye?' Jack mumbled absentmindedly, while he held Devon's hand in his and srtoked it with the other.

''Ow is she?'

When no response was given, McDowell shook his head, worried for not only the piratess but for his Captain as well, and silently left the Captain's Quarters.

Jack wasn't hungry, he didn't need food. He was only worried, worried about the poor woman who lay on the bed beside him. All the hell she had given him, all the hell he had given her – that seemed so insignificant now. All he wanted was for her to open those beautiful blue eyes and harass him or do something … _anything_. He didn't care what she did or said when she woke up. All he wanted was for her to wake up. He would be fine when she was fine. Jack realised that he would give his right arm for her to wake up. Hell, he would give anything for her to wake up.

Hours passed and Jack was constantly at her side, holding her hand and whispering words of comfort into her ear even though he wasn't entirely sure she could hear him. Hours later, Jack dozed off, still in the chair next to the bed. While Jack was sleeping next to her, dreaming of her death and the funeral at sea that he would have to give her as a result, Devon's head moved ever-so-slightly and her eyes slowly fluttered open.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words never came… She was too weak. She felt a warm hand in hers and when she moved her head slightly to the right she spotted Jack, fast asleep. His head was rolled to the side while he snored slightly. There was an awful grimace on that beautiful visage of his and his nose twitched.

Her spirits lightened when she saw him, even though the grimace on his face disturbed her, and so she tried to call to him. 'Jack?' she could barely hear her own voice … All she knew is that she was cold, sweet Jesus she was so cold…

She tried to call him again, 'Jack? Oh God I'm so c-c-c-cold,' her body started to shake once more and Devon was scared… so scared… so cold… so tired…. 'Jack? Oh, s-s-s-s-o tired,' and with that her eyes closed again. Once they closed Devon felt as though she were being bathed in light, nothing was dark anymore, nothing was cold anymore. It was so bright that she almost couldn't bare the sight of it. She felt the strangest urge to find the source of the light. Then she heard a little voice in her head, and it kept saying the same thing, persuading her, making her want to believe that what it said was true…

_Need to go to the light… follow the light…__ light is warm…_

To be continued…

A/N II

Wow, the review count on the previous chapter was amazing! Thank all of you for the kind words, the pitchforks and the death inquiries! I hope you all liked this chapter too.


	26. Spiritual Reunions

_Disclamer: If I were a rich girl. Dadadadadadadidadadadooooooooo I'd buy the rights and get even richer… but now… I'm just doin' this for the fun of it!_

A note from the DuTchess:

This chapter was so hard to write and I had to do a great amount of research on it as well. I've spent hours roaming the net to find the info I needed. And then I wrote it… rewrote it… changed it again. It drove my husband to the verge of insanity since I didn't have attention for him while I was behind my laptop. But when it was done… I sent it to Linnie, who's added about 2000 more words and there you have it… Chapter 26! I hope you all enjoy! P.S. Since I just found does not allow lyrics to be posted in a chapter if you did not write said lyrics yourself… I have to repost this entire story, since there are lyrics everywhere… So if you see author alerts from me, don't get too exited… I'm just replacing the chapters that have lyrics in them… sadly enough.

**E/n: Forgive me lovelies, I've tried to get the chappie out as fast as I can, but with the French in here and all the things I've been doing since the last update, I barely had time to sleep. It's almost the end of the semester and because of that I haven't had much time to myself recently. What I did with this chappie to get it out faster was that I did a primary edit, but didn't completely finish the secondary edit that I normally do afterwards in order to get it to you all faster. I will do it eventually, but preferably when I have time. But enough talk, enjoy the latest installment!**

"_Beyond the darkness there is light"_

_**Chapter 26**_

_**Spiritual Reunions**_

Devon was drawn to the source of light in front of her, almost as if she was being pulled to this light by means of an attraction that she couldn't control, let alone resist. As she got closer and closer to the source of this strange yet magnificent illumination, the biting cold that had spread throughout her body diminished and in its place she felt a comfortable numbness. She felt as if the light was revitalizing her, as though the weariness and weak feeling she previously possessed just vanished and she was left with the calm, serene air around her. Everything was placid. There was no sound… and the sheer silence of it was overwhelming. She couldn't see a thing save the glorious light that was embracing her.

_Follow the light… light is good… light is warm… _

There was that mantra again … it made her feel at ease. This place was good… this was where she wanted to be. It occurred to Devon that it didn't matter that she had no idea where "this" might be. Everything was good as long as she was bathed in this glorious light.

As she looked up into the light, seemingly searching for its centre, she felt a presence coming closer. Even if she tried, she couldn't see what it was, all that her vision registered at that moment was the magnificent and powerful light that seemed to be surrounding her; swallowing her whole. But she could still sense that someone or something was there with her. She turned her head and that was when she saw him. It was merely an outline of a figure encircled by an even brighter light… but she knew who it was. She could never forget that particular profile. The image was rattling and yet so comforting at the same time. She rubbed her eyes to see if they were betraying her… _It can't be…_ But when she opened them again, he was still there, illuminated and absolutely radiant. The image was so clear. It was unlike the other hallucinations that Devon had in the past after drinking absinthe. As since she knew she hadn't touched the green fairy in a long time, that couldn't be the cause if this was in fact a hallucination. This thought sent her mind into a state of chaos because she couldn't figure out what could possibly be the cause of these hallucinations. She rubbed her eyes again. She didn't believe that what she saw was real… it just _couldn't _be real. But he then why did he seem so real, and so near?

'Dad?' she spoke hesitantly, surprising even herself with the tranquillity present in her voice.

''Ello Devony,' Duncan Black spoke warmly while he drew nearer to his daughter, 'I've been waitin' for ye.'

Devon rushed forward, not even feeling her legs move her across the short space that separated them, and fell into the strong arms of her father. _He feels real too…_ She pulled away from the embrace reluctantly, still not certain where she was or how she had gotten here. In fact what was puzzling her most of all was _why_ her father was here with her. _If he's even truly 'ere fer tha' matter…_ Devon gazed up at his face – and noticed that he hadn't aged or changed a bit. The scar on his left eyebrow still graced his face, his thick looped earring still hung in his right earlobe, the brand mark still adorned his forearm, while the black anchor tattoo that she used to admire still rested underneath the brand, and his big hands were as callused as they had been when she had held them last… Nothing had changed – he looked exactly like he had done when she had seen him last. That was before… well before he had gone on the venture that had cost him his life. Ah, now she spotted something different. His face seemed to glow; in fact his whole presence seemed to radiate with this incredible luminosity, and he seemed happy and so calm. Not only that, but he seemed more serene then she had ever remembered.

'Ye have?' she whispered, rubbing her eyes to spare herself from this entirely too vivid vision that was still wreaking havoc in her heart and her head. She still couldn't grasp that all of this was real and her father was standing before like he hadn't done for so long. Then a thought struck her, and as the thought washed over her, what reflected on her face was both passionate and heart-wrenching to watch. 'Am….. I …. Am I dead, dad?'

'Aye, we may've been awaitin' yer arrival, dove, but ye're not dead. T'is not yer time. Ye've come too soon. Come closer, me sweet, an' let me show ye…'

Just then Devon heard another voice from behind her, it was the voice of someone she knew so well, loved so much, and hadn't heard in so long… 'Mon enfant, permettes-moi de voir vous. Vous venez à votre mère.' ((My child, let me see you. Come to your mother.))

'Ma mère êtes que vraiment vous?' ((Mother is that really you?)) Devon whispered as she turned around. And there she was… her mother. The very same woman who drove her up the wall as a teenager, the woman who introduced her to Francis Steward, the woman that wanted her to live the life of a proper lady… by being the woman that wanted her to keep her feet dry and stay on land. Oh, how she despised her mother sometimes, but now… all Devon sensed was a feeling of completeness. It was her mother! She was reunited with the ones she had loved and lost and it felt so good….

'Oui c'est moi, Devony. Mais permettes-moi de regarder vous,' ((Yes, it is me, Devony. But let me look at you,)) the woman spoke as she pulled Devon close to her and began to examine her as if she were an item on sale at market. 'Juste regardez-vous! Regardez que vous avez fait a votre peau! Est ceci comment j'ai haussé tu?' ((Just look at you! Look at what you did to your skin! Is this how I raised you?)) Her mother scoffed when she spotted several of Devon's tattoos that could be seen through Jack's thin shirt. Duncan walked up to his wife and nudged her side lovingly. 'Ye never disliked my tattoos, ma femme chérie… ((my darling wife)) but I mus' say Vonnie, I rather like 'em.' He turned to Devon with a grin.

A smile formed on the woman's lips and as Devon hugged her mother she whispered, 'Vous avez tourné hors juste la façon j'ai imaginé, mon enfant. Vous a fait votre père très heureux.' ((You have turned out just the way I imagined, my child. You make your father very happy.)) Devon embraced her mother and father. She still had no idea what was going on, but regardless of that fact, nothing else mattered to her at that moment. It felt so goddamn good not to be an orphan anymore… to have them both close to her… especially her father. How she had missed him. Despite the fact she was a grown woman, she had missed her father every single day of her life since he had passed on.

'Come along Vonnie, there be somethin' ye need ta see,' her father broke the embrace and took her by the hand. Then both of her parents guided her towards what appeared to be a window. It seemed odd to Devon that even though she appeared to be walking, she never felt her legs move. In fact it felt like she was floating about in a brightly lit vacuum… there were no walls, no floor and it looked as though the room had no ceiling at all. _Is this wha' thems religious people call infinity?_

Her father chuckled, but Devon looked over at him in confusion because she didn't know what had caused him to laugh. He didn't say anything else to her about it, but sent a wink her way as if she were about to find out.

Devon smiled back at him, knowing he was reassuring her in his own way, but her trepidation of this place increased once she spotted an oval window in front of them. Now Devon sees oval windows all the time, living on a ship and all … but this one was different. This window had no wall that the window was made to look through. In fact, the window seemed to float in front of them in an endless space filled with that strange bright white light. _Am I dreamin'? _She thought as she looked around her.

'Nay, pet, this is no dream. This be a place ye needed ta visit, but tis not yer time ta stay 'ere yet, Devony… Regardless o' how long yer mom an' I've waited, there's another path tha' was chosen for ye. Ye ain't passin' on, yer just passin' through, as it were…'

'I don't understand…' she mumbled.

'Th' path tha' was laid out for ye involves a certain someone ye left behind…'

Devon stared blankly at her father. 'Someone I left b'hind? Who?'

'Well… see fer yerself, pet,' Duncan Black pointed to the window. What happened next was something that Devon couldn't even begin to describe. She looked through the window and saw a very strange scene play out before her eyes.

Devon blinked to make sure she wasn't really hallucinating this time, but sure enough when she opened her eyes she saw the same thing. She couldn't believe it! It was herself! She looked deathly pale and was tucked under many blankets in Jack's bed because she was trembling. As her eyes took in the rest of the picture before her, she noticed how Jack paced about his cabin, his hands waving in some unheard argument with himself. Her eyes doubled in size when she saw him cease his pacing to walk over to her and stroke her face softly. Then he got a panicked look on his face and began to shout something. His arms were now moving frantically now so she knew that he been shouting about something. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Stitch hurry into the room, buckle a belt around her upper arm and make an incision in it with his knife. She watched, transfixed, as a trail of crimson slide down her arm before it was caught in a silver bowl that Ana had bought in with her at some point. Devon didn't even remember seeing her enter… she must've been pre-occupied with why the hell Stitch would cut her arm and purposefully draw her blood out like that. She ceased her musing when she saw them softly place a wet cloth on her head, they were all being so gentle with her, and she swore that she never looked so … fragile before. Then she looked back to Jack, who stood beside her with her cherished dog in his arms, and even her heart ached at the sight. Her black pirate heart yearned for him. It yearned for both of them. She wanted so much to comfort him and tell him she was okay… he looked so pale… so worried. _Is this all 'cause o' me? _She had never seen him act this way. In fact she was certain that no one had.

Jack put Bullet down and reached for her hand, and then he started to shout again. Devon inched towards the window, because she couldn't quite make out his expression…._ Is 'e cryin'! No,_ she silently corrected herself, _Jack Sparrow doesn't cry, Devon…_

'Oh, but 'e does, pet. 'E's a lot like yer old man 'e is. On th' outside, 'e's nigh untouchable an' quite unpredictable ta boot. But on th' inside, we both seem ta hide th' things tha' could wound us if others knew 'bout 'em. Ye should know tha' well 'nough, ye're another expert in hidin' what ye really feel. Guess ye take after me more than yer mom in tha' sense. Yer mother has worn 'er heart on 'er tongue all 'er life. Although ye tend ta just blurt out things tha' pop inta tha' pretty head o' yers, when it comes ta feelin's… Th' feelin's are safely locked away. But this Jack Sparrow has found the key, hasn't 'e, Vonnie? An' ye've gotten under his skin too… he loves ye, same way tha' ye love 'im.'

Devon was appalled at her father. 'Do not!'

Duncan laughed at his daughter. 'S'alright ta say tha' I'm right…. We know, Vonnie. Yer mom an' I, we know what ye feel an' what ye think. Ye don't 'ave ta pretend with us pet. Ye love 'im an' this is why it isn't yer time yet. There are things ye need ta work out with 'im an' there is just so much left undone. An' even more that's been left unsaid for that matter. But ye needed ta see for yerself how much 'e cares. 'E's a good man Vonnie…'

Devon couldn't help but be both angry and astonished at her father, she knew this was a dream, it had to be a dream… but no matter the situation she would not stand, or even float about in this case, while her father defended the man that had made her cry! 'He fucked another, dad!' Only after the statement burst forth from her mouth did she realize how odd it was to talk in that manner to one's father, so she hastily added, 'Pardon me language…'

Duncan Black laughed warmly, his daughter had matured, but hadn't changed all that much. She was still the same stubborn girl with a big mouth and a warm heart.

Her mother wrapped an arm around Devon's shoulders in an attempt to comfort her daughter, 'Quelques hommes font des choses étranges afin de trouver leurs vraies sensations, Devony. Mais il vous adore. Juste regarde-lui…' ((Some men do strange things in order to find their true feelings, Devony. But he loves you. Just look at him…))

Devon looked into the strange window again and then she saw him. He was alone with her… _Th' others must have left_… Jack held her hand and kissed her brow, and she could almost hear what he was whispering to her… his lips moved and she was surprised that she could make out what he was saying. 'Don't ye ever do tha' ta me 'gain, ye hear? I was so afraid I'd loose ye… I can't loose ye now, tart, not when it took me so long ta find ye. I love ye, ye know tha'?'

She had been so entranced by the scene that when she tore her eyes away for a moment she was startled to notice that the window was gone and everything was black again. She missed the white light and its warmth and comfort. But then her fears lessened when she heard her father's comforting voice, 'Go on Vonnie…. Return ta him… go on now… make amends….' Devon wanted to say goodbye to her parents, look at them one last time before she left – but suddenly, gravity claimed her.

Devon felt as though she was falling slowly at first, but soon she could feel the air rushing past her and kept gaining speed. It was as if she was falling through a never ending hole, and even though her eyes were closed tightly she could still see the whole spectrum of colours passing before her eyes. She couldn't even recall closing them, but they were certainly shut now.

All of a sudden she stopped falling, but she didn't land on something soft and fluffy, like Jack's bed … she was in something sticky and wet, the sensation was awful and she almost heaved. Then she began breathing deeply, trying to calm down and quell the urge to heave, and felt a calmness and comfort settle over her as she realized that it was actually her own body she had just re-entered. _How odd is tha'?_ She suddenly felt the inescapable urge to open her eyes…

* * *

Jack was so incredibly relieved when Devon was finally stable. Sometime during the night he had dozed off and as a result he had almost lost her. Luckily he woke up just in time, he thought that he had heard her call out to him, but he knew that must have been no more than a figment of his imagination. But imagination or not, he thanked the heavens for that vivid imagination of his. Stitch had told him that if he hadn't woken up when he did, Devon would've surely died. She was still weak, her breathing was still shallow however, and she hadn't awoken yet… but she was stable now and that was more than he could've asked for. The only thing he wanted now was for her to wake…. He needed to talk to her, to tell her everything was going to be fine… now if only to convince himself that it would be….

He was certain his heart leapt in his throat when he saw her move her head ever so slightly, and he nearly wept with happiness when she began to slowly open her eyes.

He had stayed there and watched her ever since Stitch and Ana had left, he didn't want to fall asleep again, and he couldn't bear to leave her in someone else's care either. When he first saw movement in the bed before him, he thought his eyes were betraying him. When he was certain that it wasn't a figment of his imagination and that she really _had_ opened her eyes, he practically sprung out of his chair and was at her side within a second.

'Devon! Luv? Can ye hear me?'

Devon blinked her eyes, her vision was blurry, but she heard him and opened her mouth. Even with shallow breaths, she managed to form some words very slowly, 'Yes, Jack… I can hear ye…. Wha' … what's goin' on? Wha' 'appened?' She could speak… She had actually spoken. Her lips had moved and somehow words had come out… yet she barely recognized her own voice, it sounded so light… so breakable. She was still breathing irregularly, but at least she could speak!

'God, woman ye had me so worried!' and before Devon could even process what he was doing, he kissed her tenderly and scooped her up in his arms. Words could not express how Jack felt, when he could finally hold her again and he could talk to her. He was holding her so tightly, he was afraid that she'd slip away again.

'Wha' happened, Jack? Why am I 'ere?'

'Ye almost drowned, luv. I was able ta get ye out, but ye had been in th' water fer too long, ye were out fer near 24 hours. I've been so worried bout ye.' It took Jack a moment before he remembered Stitch's orders about not moving her from the bed, so he carefully put her back down on his bed. He even fluffed the pillows for her.

'T'hurts when I breathe,' she whispered.

'Stitch says ye must've jammed inta somethin' when th' waves came 'board, nothin's broken he wagers, but he said ye might feel sore fer a while.'

'Ah…,' she said, not recalling anything of what Jack had just told her. 'Wait, wha' waves…?'

'We were caught up a storm, quite a nasty one, ye didn't secure yerself…'

Devon stared at him. His face held the very same expression she had witnessed earlier when she had looked down at him through the window.

'Wha's wrong, Jack? I'm gonna be fine… honestly…' _I am, aren't I?_

'Nothin's wrong…' he mumbled as he held her right hand in his own.

'I'm so sorry Devon,' Jack said softly while he stroked her cheek with the back of his left hand.

'Wha' for?' she asked while she looked into his eyes, and tried to ignore the shivers she felt run down her back. She was getting cold again, but she was certain that not all those shivers were due to the fact she was cold. 'Ye said I didn't secure meself, then tha' be MY fault then not yers…'

Jack turned his face away, this was so difficult. Apologizing to her and confessing his feelings while she was unconscious was just so much easier. But now, when he wanted to say the words again so she could hear, he found that the presence of those deep blue eyes of hers was not making things easier for him. 'That's not what I was referrin' to...'

Devon's eyebrow rose ever so slightly, 'No?'

He sighed heavily, and looked away so that he could avoid those eyes of hers, 'Nay, I be sorry fer actin' like a right arse in th' "_Willing Wench_" th' other night. I did tha' ta get back at ye, ye nearly drove me insane flirtin' wit' tha' barkeep. I shouldn't 'ave gone through wit' it, I realise tha' now. Ye were on me mind constantly an' I didn't mean ta… ye know… hurt ye. Honestly. But I thought 'bouts ye the whole time I was fuc-, ye know while I… an' then I thought I'd lost ye… an' tha' damned whore screwed us both…. I didn't want ta… ye know….'

'Jack?' she interrupted him.

'Hmmmm?' he mumbled while he fidgeted with the sheets, suddenly realising that he had his arms limp at his sides and that he didn't know what to do with his hands.

'I understand.'

He looked at her from beneath his unruly hair, and due to a dread hung in front of his eyes, it caused him to look at her cross-eyed, 'Ye do?'

'Mmm hmmm. I've come ta realise tha' we're more alike than I figured. An' b'sides…' she hesitated for a moment when she remembered the words her fathers had spoken, but swallowed them down. She needed _him_ to say it… and since he hadn't, she still didn't know if he wanted there to be anything between them. 'There's nothin' b'tween us, so there's really no need fer ye ta be apologizin'…'

Jack felt as if she had kicked him in the gut, after all this, she was really going to lie there and tell him that there was nothing going on? Was she really going to deny the tension between them? Was she really going to ignore all the ciphers she was giving him constantly?

Devon turned her head away, but he cupped her chin with his thumb and index finger and moved it back, so she was facing him again. 'Are ye tellin' me tha' ye don't 'ave these… ye know…' he made a face when he finally spit it out, '…_feelin's_?'

''Ow do ye mean?' she asked innocently.

Jack cleared his throat loudly, got up and walked to his doors and quietly opened them. Then he stuck his head out in the small corridor to make sure that no one could hear them or was eavesdropping, stepped back inside and then proceeded to lock his doors from the inside, before walking back to her.

'Ye know what I mean, don't ye…? These feelin's.. not just th' lust, it's somethin'… I dunno, _strange_ inside yer stomach… ye don't 'ave tha'?'

Devon smiled softly and nodded.

'Ye do?' Jack asked, careful not to sound too thrilled at the answer, and he leaned forward, his nose almost touching hers.

Their eyes locked and Devon felt so tired…. She wanted to sleep, but she needed to come clean too. The weight of denial she had carried around on her shoulders had become too much for her to bear. Her father was right… there was too much left unsaid and he had apologized, hadn't he? So Devon summoned all the strength she had and did the bravest thing she's ever done… she told him how she really felt.

'I do…. They…' she paused for a moment, breaking away from his dark eyes, then continued, 'They don't make sense an' I've fought 'em long enough…tis o' no use anyhow. I've come ta realise tha' ye make me feel things tha' I thought I'd ne'er feel… I…' she cleared her throat before she said it, 'I _care_ fer ye Jack.' The word care was all she could give him and it would have to do.

There was an awkward silence that lingered between the two of them for a few minutes, which seemed like centuries to Devon before she continued. 'An' now tha' we've concluded tha' we both 'ave these... ye know…' Her eyes closed for a moment. She was so tired.

Jack poured water into a cup and brought it to her mouth. Devon drank a few sips and then pushed the cup away. 'Thank ye… I needed tha'…'

Jack nodded and put the cup on the nightstand. 'Go on, luv. What did ye want ta say?'

'I was jus' wond'rin'. Where do we go from 'ere then, eh?' Devon asked as her voice cracked a bit. Then she raised her hand slowly to touch one of the braids in his beard.

Jack shrugged his shoulders, 'Dunno… I've ne'er felt this b'fore, these feelin's I mean.. let's jus' see how it goes, eh?'

Devon smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. 'Mmmm hmmm, but let's not… ye know… tell anyone jus' yet since I ain't so keen on answerin' questions.'

Jack grinned. 'Ye're so much like me! Tha' would be best I wager.'

Devon graced him with a small smile, but found that she was having even more trouble keeping her eyes open the longer they talked.

'Luv?'

'Mmmmmm…'

'Just ta be sure… we're ok now, righ'?'

Devon nodded her head while she tried to get comfortable in the big bed. 'We be good, an' I be better… But I'm jus' so goddamn tired an' so cold…'

'Tha' mean I can get inta bed wit' ye? I can get ye warm….'

Devon nearly smiled and wanted to answer him, but sleep finally claimed her and she dozed off into a dreamless sleep. Jack pulled an extra blanket over her and tucked her in. Then he softly kissed her brow.

'Go ta sleep now, darlin', ye need yer sleep,' he said while he stroked a stray curl away from her face.

There was a short knock on the door, but Jack was still gazing at Devon, he was thanking every god he could think of for her recovery and for bringing her back to him. When he heard another knock, this one more persistent than the previous one, he got up and opened his doors to invite Stitch in.

The ship's 'doctor' couldn't believe his eyes when he saw and checked Devon. Her fever had almost completely gone down, and her pulse was regular. Stitch said that she still needed to be checked up on every hour. It seemed that no one wanted to take the chance of her slipping away again.

'It truly is a miracle how she's bounced back like that… given th' state she was in just a few hours ago.'

Jack nodded. 'I know, couldn't believe it meself either. She did say she was still cold though', he said, while he glanced down at her.

'Best keep her warm, but I've seen ye've tucked her in nice 'n warm, Capt'n. She'll be fine,' Stitch said. 'She's a fighter.'

Jack smiled. 'Aye, tha' she is. Tha' she is indeed…'

He wanted to kiss her, if only for a brief moment, but Stitch was still present and since he wasn't too keen about his crew knowing about him and Devon either, he fought the urge to do so, and made way to the helm instead, leaving his Devon in the capable hands of Stitch.

He wore a big smile on his face as he climbed the stairs. The smile looked like it had been carved onto his face.

When he relieved Ana from her shift, he told his first mate how Devon had awoken and that she seemed to be stable and just fine. When Ana left to go check on her friend, he took his place behind the wheel again, trying to shake the memory of the other day out of his mind.

'Jack! How is she doing now?' Gibbs came to him, handing Jack the small silver canister of rum from his vest-pocket.

After taking a heavenly gulp from it, he handed it back to Gibbs, 'She's fine. Stitch says she'll be okay. She's sleeping as we speak.'

'Ah, that's good ta hear, Jack. Very good ta hear'

'Thought ye didn't like her… what happened? In fact, ye referred ta her as bein' 'utter evil, th' spawn o' Satan, Lucifer's daughter herself' if I remember correctly…' Jack teased.

Gibbs took a swig himself, embracing the momentarily silence, 'Changed me mind, well not entirely, but I's figured tha' if she were in fact a witch, she wouldn't have drowned… that, or she would 'ave mingled with the water and turn to salt or sea-foam…' The look on Gibb's face was dead serious as he relayed these "facts" to Jack.

Jack simply rolled his eyes and the smile on his face turned in to a smirk, as he grabbed back the canister back from Gibbs. 'Ye've got too much imagination, mate!'. _Though tha' ain't necessarily a bad thing_, Jack mused while he stroke his beard. Images of him and Devon came to mind and he couldn't help but grin again. _A woman can never have too much imagination I tell ye!_

Gibbs ruefully shook his head, 'But even ye must admit, tha' there be something very odd about her Jack.'

Jack took another gulp from the flask and returned to his place behind the wheel. 'Define odd.'

Gibbs sighed, 'She doesn't look like a lady fer starters…'

Jack grinned, 'I don't recall 'er claimin' ta be one, but she's all woman tha' I can assure ye.'

There was a slightly appalled and disgusted look in Gibb's eyes for a moment, but then he shrugged it off. 'An' I dunno… there's just something about her tha' gives me the jitters.'

Jack just couldn't help himself this time and started chuckling. 'Ye are aware tha' ye just said she gives ye th' creeps an' moments ago ye said ye changed yer mind 'bout not likin' 'er. An'…' Jack pointed his finger in Gibbs's face, 'why would ye sit next ta 'er at th' dinner table when ye think she's scary?'

Gibbs decided it was probably for the better if he'd just drop the subject, since there was no winning with Jack. So he grabbed his canister back from Jack and walked away. He didn't understand why Jack was defending her in the first place. Sure Devon could be friendly and she had never really given him reason not to like her. But he just couldn't help it, the woman made him feel very uncomfortable. Ever since they had left Tortuga to set sail for Bermuda, she had been quiet and he could somehow relate to her, even though he had no idea what was ailing her. But still… there was something odd about her. In a way she did remind him a bit of Jack, and she had Elisabeth's spunk multiplied by a hundred. But then again, for a pirate lass, that wasn't exactly a bad thing now that he came to think of it. She was on a strange ship with a strange crew so maybe she needed more time to settle in…

'Gibbs?' Jack's voice broke him from his thoughts.

'Aye Sir?' he answered, turning around.

'Yer right 'bout her ta a certain extent, but righ' now she needs care an' support from us all an' I demand ye give 'er tha'.'

'Aye, Sir!'

* * *

Devon had been asleep for hours by the time Ana came around again, this time to let Bullet see its mistress. The dog had been whining in Ana and Devon's cabin ever since Jack had left the dog back in her care. And now that Jack had told her Devon was recovering, she felt it was right to reunite Devon and her dog. She put Bullet on the bed after she had checked up on Devon. Her breathing was regular, as was her pulse, and her fever had completely subsided. After making sure Devon was okay, she walked out of the Captain's Quarters and left Bullet in there with Devon. 'Ye watch yer lady now, Bullet, she needs ye as much as ye need her.' She whispered to it before she closed the double doors.

The small dog sniffed Devon's hair and snuggled close to her, its nose resting against her cheek. It started licking Devon's face after a while and moments later Devon's eyes slowly fluttered open.

'Ye came ta check up on mommy luv? Who let ye in here?' she spoke lovingly while she pulled Bullet up onto her chest. She didn't keep Bullet up there for long because the pressure of his paws on her ribcage hurt her. 'Sorry dahlink, but ye have ta lay b'sides me…'

The black and white dog yawned and then snuggled back to her, licking her arms.

'I love ye, Bully…' she whispered and stroke its head. Bullet returned the favour by rubbing its head against the palm of her hand. Devon looked around the room. It really was beautiful. It could have been even prettier if Jack had been a bit of a tidier man, but Devon didn't care much. She feasted her eyes on the shelves in front of her. There was a very impressive stack of false colours. Devon smiled. _Even Drake ain't got tha' many flags. Where th' hell did 'e get all those? _She fought the urge to get out of bed to go and take a closer look, but settled for another scan of the room instead. The first time she had been here she hadn't had the chance to properly look around, since she had been too tied up in her fight with Jack. _Ye've got one heck o' a ship Jack… ye really do._

Then she looked at the nightstand next to her and spotted a canister. Jack's canister. Despite all her promises to keep away from liquor, she felt she could use a drop or two. Just for the taste of it. She reached for the silver flask and uncapped it, half expecting it to be empty. Why wouldn't he have taken it with him if it still had something left inside? But to her great surprise, there was still something left in it. She slowly brought her arm up to her nose and then she smelled the too familiar scent of rum. _Bless ye Jack! _She couldn't help herself, and she raised the canister to her mouth and took a swig. _Aaaaaaaah blisssss! _After the first sip, she decided it wasn't fair to Jack if she were to drink it dry, so she put the cap back on and put it back in its former position. She snuggled herself back under the covers again, enjoying the tingling in her mouth. Bullet snored loudly for a moment, but as the snores got softer and Devon realised she now felt better than she had before. In fact she wasn't so cold anymore, which she was certain was partially due to the rum, but she could move and talk better than when she woke up the first time. Truth be told her ribcage still hurt and so did her head, just realising why a few moments ago when she located a bump the size of an egg that the pain was emanating from. The nicest thing about how she felt now was that she didn't feel as weak as she had before. _Now tha's quite a blessin'…_

A soft but very genuine smile formed on her lips as she recalled her conversation with Jack earlier… Well, she didn't know how much earlier because to her, it felt like she had been sleeping for months. It could have been an hour ago, maybe two, maybe a day, or even several days… but the time span held no importance. He had told her he had feelings for her and they were more than just lust…

_Is this really happenin'? Have I found th' one in 'im?_

She heard another voice in the back of her mind, not the usual miss know-it-all voice that used to bug her, but the warm voice of the man that had raised her like the son he had never had. The man she owed so much to…

/Let 'im take 'is place in yer life, Vonnie. Ye want it an' so does 'e. Fate brought ye t'gether. Give it a chance, ye know 'e ain't like Steward, Sparrow doesn't want ta change ye after all, 'e likes ye jus' th' way ye are…/

_Thanks fer yer advice, but I can make decisions on me own, an' I think tha' I can do it rather well too._ There was that damned feeling again. It was awkward, but familiar and magnified about a hundred times. It filled every fibre in her body. Still, despite it all, she felt the need to kill it, extinguish it, but it was of no use. The flames that Pirate Captain had sparked inside her bricked-solid heart had grown too big. She couldn't help but go along with wherever this would lead her.

/Ye 'aven't changed much over th' years dove, ye still want ta 'ave th' final say…/

_Takin' after me ol' man in tha' way too I wager_, she retorted. When she heard the clucking of boots drawing closer, she ceased fighting with her father's voice and glanced at the door. The doors opened and there he was.

'What's tha' _thing_ doin' in me bed?' Jack muttered to himself as he took off his hat and placed it on his desk. Then he glanced back to the bed, and saw that Devon was sitting upright with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was ignoring her aching body and gave him a lethal glance.

'Bullet ain't a _thing_ Jack. It's a dog, _MY_ dog an' I don't know who put 'im 'ere, but as long as I'm stayin', it stays!'

'Ye heard tha'?' he questioned, full well knowing the answer.

'Aye!'

'Oh shush, when ye're well enough ye'll go back ta yer own cot anyhow,' he said warmly as he approached her and planted a feather light kiss on the corner of her lovely mouth.

'Why? Ye're already sick o' me?'

'Nay, but did we not both agree tha' t'would be best if no one knew… ye know… 'bout us?'

Devon smiled. 'True.'

Jack sat himself down next to Devon and planted another feather light kiss on her mouth as he twirled one of her curls around his fingers. 'Glad ta see ye're feelin' better, luv…'

'Glad ta feel better too,' she smiled against his lips. His moustache tickled her nose and before she knew it, he kissed her again. 'Ye go back ta sleep now, tart, ye need it.'

'Says who?' she asked as he tucked her in. 'I see ye won't be joinin' me?'

'I'll sleep in me chair luv, don't wanna be th' cause o' more damage ta yer…' he glanced up and down her chest, 'ye know… there….' And as he made way to remove his belt and sash he heard a soft snoring that came from the bed followed by some very loud ones.

'Blast tha' dog… I'll ne'er get me sleep now,' Jack muttered to himself as he placed his belt on the back of the armchair. But regardless of his groans, he bent down to pet the dog that had made itself comfortable on the pillow next to Devon's face.

Then he kissed Devon on her brow and made himself comfortable in his armchair. He looked at his bed once more and glanced at that odd dog, which seemed to have woken up from Jack's touch a few moments earlier and now stared back at him with its dark eyes.

Jack smiled. 'Watch 'er fer me, will ye, Bullet?'

Jack swore he was seeing things when something akin to acceptance flickered in the dog's eyes. Then Bullet turned back to Devon, snuggled closer to her and sighed deeply, and when its snores soon mingled with Devon's soft ones and Jack knew everything would be alright.

TBC…

A/N II I hope you all enjoyed that! Lemme know what you think, that's the greatest stimulation you could give a poor Dutch author like myself! Reviews are so helpful and make it all worth while!

Until next time,

Love from Holland

- The DuTchess of Doom -


	27. Knowing

_Usual disclaimers; I don't own anything besides my own imagination._

_Warning: This chapter contains very explicit material__, I didn't rate the story for nothing!. The chapter only contains valuable plot information in the first and last segment. If you do not want to read the explicit scenes, skip the segment marked with X's. Just so ye know, it isn't all J & D physical action, there is also a nice conversation in it, which I enjoyed writing immensely, but if its just not your kind of thing, please scroll._

_**A/N**__**: I know some of you prefer the "smutty" scenes as much as I enjoy writing them, but since this one was a bit more descriptive than the ones I usually write I thought I'd give you all a warning before hand. For those of you who do enjoy a little passion; enjoy. For those of you who I've just terribly offended, I can't say I'm sorry, it just begged to be written, but I hope you'll like the next chapter better. And I hope you'll all leave a review regardless. I like feedback whether it's in the shape of a compliment or constructive criticism!**_

**E/n: It was out as quick as we could get it to you lovelies. DuTchess had to **_**ahem**_** finish re-writing it before I could get it… then I had to find the time to be able to work on it since I'm doing research at school full time this summer. Enough about me, I hope you like it because we sure had fun with it! xoxo**

"_For all knowledge and wonder (which is the seed of knowledge) is an impression of pleasure in itself."  
__Francis Bacon_

_**Chapter 27**_

"_**Knowing"**_

Devon recovered from her injuries far quicker and far better than any one aboard could have imagined to be possible. Naturally, this didn't include Devon. She believed, or rather convinced herself to believe, that her recovery had only taken one night. Therefore she resented any extra time that she was forced to spend in bed and below decks. Devon wasn't used to being pampered and she hated it. All this nurturing and pampering made her uncomfortable. _I be better! Why can't they see tha'? Me condition's fine now, so I should be able ta be up an' about, not be stuck in this damned bed goin' out o' me bloody mind! _

She longed to be outside of these wooden walls that merely represented beautifully decorated prison cell to her now. Not to mention that Jack had become the gorgeous, overly worried, meddlesome prison guard. Devon needed to get back in the saddle… or back on her own two legs so to speak. She loathed the feeling of being useless and treated like some fragile china doll. Devon had asked – no pleaded – for Jack to assign her tasks. She tried to convince him that she was fine and even complained she how bored she was having to stay in this bed all day now that she was healed. Seeing that this line of pleading wasn't getting her anywhere, she casually mentioned how good it would be to flex and use her muscles again… But Jack did not take the bait, and simply smiled sweetly back at her and gave her orders to follow alright. But they were not the ones she had hoped and longed for.

He gave her permission to leave his quarters, but that was only so she could go back to Ana's cabin instead. Not only that but he gave her strict orders to stay below decks. Devon seethed. She tried reasoning with him and arguing with him, but when neither worked she nearly lost her cool and yelled at him, but restrained herself. He just wouldn't budge. So now she found herself back in the quarters she shared with AnaMaria, where she sat on her cot. She was lost in the chart before her, studying it and trying to make any sense of it. Some of the lines had been smudged due to her "accident," but there were smears in other places that she just couldn't place … _Well, at leas' it's still readable. P'haps I jus' need ta concentrate harder on th' blasted thing… _Even though she was entranced with the map, tracing the lines that were still visible and studying the coordinates, her head snapped up and she immediately rolled the map back up when she heard heavy footfalls in the corridor.

She managed to roll the map back up just before the door swung open, but unfortunately she couldn't hide it properly in time. Her eyes shot around the small cabin. _If I hide it in th' mattress now, I would only draw 'is attention ta it. Best I just casually lie 'bout it…._

Even before he entered the cabin she had known who it was. She had come to know his gait. Those boots of his gave his footfalls since a unique sound. It was hard to miss. At least for her. She turned around knowing she would meet his eyes the moment she did. And there he was. Standing in the doorway, leaning heavily against the doorframe, arms crossed as he locked his eyes onto hers, a smile pulling at his lips all the while. After a few moments, Devon broke the gaze and allowed her eyes to roam his physique. _My, it's hot in 'ere… swear ta God tha' man looks better with ev'ry passin' hour._

He had lost his weather beaten jacket and was only wearing his grey faded breeches and his once-white billowed-sleeve blouse with the buttons opened. And that attire revealed his tan decorated and scarred chest all the way down to his midriff… It went so far as to partially reveal the ship tattoo on his chest. Now Devon was in a bit of a delicate situation, since even the smallest flash of his naked skin made her uncomfortable. It wasn't that she hadn't seen ALL of him before… but seeing his naked torso like this at a time where they had finally sorted out their feelings made her a little uneasy. Of course the presence of some fading scratches above his right nipple that hadn't been from her nails could've been part of the reason for her emotional upheaval. A flash of jealousy came over her again and she was able to shrug it off. That was in the past now. It was something she couldn't change. When she looked at his bare torso again she felt that all _too_ familiar feeling of arousal, and she found that had to fight that feeling very hard.

Part of her was still a bit uncertain about his true feelings, despite their talk and regardless of what she had seen while she was "near-death." It was that side of Devon that still wanted to keep some form of distance between them. When they were both naked, everything came natural. But when he was working and the Captain of his ship, she was the inferior one and therein laid the problem. She needed to find a balance in the two Jack's she had come to know and love.

Jack still stood in the doorframe, that slow sly smile on his face as he studied her. He twirled his moustache with his hands idly while he thought how he just couldn't believe how good she looked. The colour had come back to her cheeks – leaving them glowing and rosy – and her curls brushed her bare shoulders. She wore one of his shirts since he had ripped her blouse and vest after he had rescued her. He had to admit that as he studied her, the shirt really looked good on her. She was one of the only ones, save him, that did that shirt justice. He grinned at the thought. Just the sight of her bare collarbones aroused him. He wanted to set his teeth in them, to nibble them and let his tongue swirl over them. As he risked a glance further down her body, he saw that his shirt had fallen off her shoulders, revealing just a small bit of cleavage. He felt himself harden as he raised his eyes back to hers. From the look she was giving him, he noticed that she was aroused as well.

The look Jack gave her made her stomach flip, but instead of acting on her urges, she managed to maintain a certain amount of control. _'Sides, it'll be so much more fun if I can make 'im anxious fer once…_ And she just happened to know him well enough that she knew the right buttons to push to illicit that reaction. She casually stuffed the map down the back of her pants, and when she tried to arch her back onto the mattress a flash of pain from her ribcage raged through her. But it was when she saw Jack's eyes gaze down her chest that she grinned and completed her task, casually wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. She knew he wanted to see more of her chest, but it was still wrapped because Stitch had told her that he might have been wrong when he said she hadn't broken her ribs. So to be on the safe side, he had wrapped her up. At the moment there was only a little bit of cleavage she could flaunt, but she knew how to work that to her advantage. Jack had wanted to remove them last night, on their secret rendezvous, but she had stopped him from undoing the wrappings. As she looked back at him, he was still staring at the little bit of skin showing on her chest. When she noticed his dark eyes darken even more and saw that familiar sparkle in his eyes, she knew for certain he hadn't seen any of the parchment.

Then she lazily stretched out on her cot and then sat up again slowly.

"Well, seems tha' th' Capt'n be gracin' lil' Dee with 'is presence. My, what a glorious day this turned out ta be," she quipped with a smirk.

"Ye still want ta be helpful 'round 'ere, darlin'?" he enquired.

Devon piped up after his words. Did he really want to give her chores so she wouldn't be stuck down here anymore?

"Aye Jack! I do… what needs ta be done? Ye need me ta work th' sails?" she said eager and grateful for his trust in her as she swung her legs over the side of the cot.

"Nay luv… not the riggin'…or the sails… cannons!" he said sternly as he pushed her back down.

Jack didn't want her up in the rigging yet, because he knew she would do too much and too heavy work, stubborn as she was.

Devon pouted at first, since he was making it quite clear that he didn't want her up on deck, but when she heard the word cannons, the pout on her lips curled into a small smile as she urged him to go on.

"Cannons?" she urged again, tugging at his sleeve.

"Aye, it jus' so happens I seems to be in desperate help o' yer expertise in th' armoury, tart. Ana told Mr. Gibbs 'bouts yer skills an' he needs ye down there, seems tha' there be some problem wit' th' angle o' me cannons…."

"Aw…" she purred, tucking the hem of her shirt inside the back of her pants. "An' here ye 'ad me thinkin' tha' ye needed me skills on a whole other level. I mean, I happen like th' angle o' yer cannon but I can help ye wit' tha' iffen ye need it…" her eyebrow rose ever so slightly as she looked him straight in the eye. "I do hope I made that clear, Capt'n…"

Jack watched as she licked her lips with the tip of her tongue.

He grinned. She was such a tease sometimes. "Another level eh tart? Could ye mean a lower one, by any chance?"

"Aye, a lower one…" she repeated with a sparkle in her eyes. Her voice was in danger of dropping with her arousal, and since she couldn't let him know, she balled her fists and let her own nails dig into her flesh to keep her mind on the task. _Sustain yerself fer goodnessakes Devon! Do ye WANT him ta find out 'bout th' map? _

"Somethin' bothers me though, luv," he said while he stroked his chin.

"Wha' might tha' be… 'sides th' fact tha' there be a lil' grey hair growin' out from b'neath yer bandana?" He raised his hands to feel his locks, but then he saw the twinkle in her eyes and thought better of it. "Oh, shut it ye…. Nay, wha' bothers me is tha' it seems ye don't really want me ta do this." He stepped forward and kissed her roughly. His experienced tongue searched for hers and when he found it he was determined to give her the most breathtaking kiss ever. Jack carefully wrapped his arms around her as he deepened the kiss. This elicited a guttural moan from Devon as she relished the taste of his passion. The pain flashed again as he wrapped his arms tighter around her, but soon Devon's muscles started to relax in his embrace. Still, she kept her guard up, in spite of her enjoyment. Just as she was about to deepen the kiss, Jack's hold on her got tighter and in one swift movement, he had pulled her off her cot.

"Ouch Jack! RIBS remember?" she huffed and punched him in his stomach.

"Sorry, luv, I'll be gentle, I promise," he whispered while he nuzzled her face and his hands travelled from her waist to her back.

That's when it happened, that thing Dee wanted to avoid. She meant to distract him so she could hide the map from him. But she realised now that it had been nothing but a vain attempt to avoid having to explain the map and her possession of it. Devon had outsmarted many a man in her days, but Jack Sparrow… he was a sly fox that even she had trouble keeping tabs on.

She hadn't expected he would kiss her or embrace her. Normally, she would have enjoyed this kiss, now she just wanted to break it as soon as possible, so his hands wouldn't find… _Damnit! _Devon reached for the map in the back of her pants before he could, but failed.

"Aha, an' what do we 'ave 'ere, hmmm?" Jack whispered close to her ear, while he tried to pry the map from her fingers.

"Nothing! Jus' recipes from me great grandmother. Dead woman. Great cook, great stew, well kept family secret…" she said flatly, while she spun around, to escape his grip.

She desperately tried to hide the map. Somewhere. Anywhere.

"Hmmmm, is tha' so? Now, I really think yer lying ta ol' Jack, darlin'. 'Sides who in their right mind would hide recipes in their breeches?" he said mockingly, while he tugged at the roll of parchment once more. Then he stared at her a bit, frowning, his head tilted to the side. He observed her for a moment until he continued, "Yer daft enough ta hide anythin' down there come ta think 'o it."

"We're pirates, Jack, we're supposed ta lie, cheat an' weasel our way out o' every given situation. Comes with th' job description… Did ye not read th' fine print?" she mumbled while she attempted to escape his eyes, pulling the parchment back from him.

"Doesn't mean ye've gotta lie ta _me_, now lemme see it luv…" he said as he tugged at the map again.

"No!" she fumed, while she made a run for it, unfortunately she still had problems with her reflexes, so she almost tripped, but managed to keep herself on her feet.

Within seconds he was right behind her and turned her around by her shoulder, Devon was now struggling even harder to keep herself from falling. His lips were curled in an incubus grin and his eyes gleamed dangerously. To Devon, he had never looked sexier she could feel the proof of that between her legs.

"Ye know I smell something, luv…" he growled low in his throat, his gold teeth shimmered as he spoke. He searched her eyes, wondering if they would betray her, but he saw nothing besides their dark ocean blue colour.

"That would be yer breath…" she dead-panned.

He was baffled for a moment, but he looked her in her eyes again, glaring at her and rendering her off her guard for only a moment. He grinned. "I smell _treasure_, luv."

_Damn, why can't I hide things from him anymore?_ Devon cursed inwardly.

"Odd," she stated emotionless. "I don't smell nothin' 'cept yer odour." She tried throwing him off so she could hide the map from him again.

"Well then let me break it to ye gently tart, _ye_ don't exactly smell like daisies or roses either. Now will ye just bloody show me tha' map already?"

"Map?" she parroted unaffected.

"Yes, map. Come on Dee, after what we've been through I think I deserve it…" he pleaded her, a mock pout on his face.

_Did 'e jus' call me Dee?_ "Th' only thing ye deserve at th' moment is ta be kicked in th' groin. But I won't do that, since I be th' wiser person 'ere. 'Sides if I did tha', it would kinda spoil th' fun fer me down there. An' did I not jus' tell ye it were _recipes_, Sparrow?"

"Horseshit, if that map contains recipes, then I suggest ye cook me a nice treasure."

Devon bit her lip in quiet frustration. _When 'ave I become so transparent? _

Jack sighed. "Why must ye always be so goddamn stubborn? Now show it ta me. I be yer Captain, ye sassy wench, I be entitled ta see it."

"Don't go there Jack!" her anger was pulsating in her veins as she spat the words out. When she saw how he drew back a bit from her anger, she sighed, but didn't back down. "Ye're jus' me temporary Capt'n, this map belongs ta Drake."

"If it belongs ta him, as ye've just declared, then why don't 'e have it, eh?" he said stroking his goatee idly, fondling with the beads in it.

Devon rolled her eyes at his sheer stupidity. "Well, I seem ta recall somethin' happenin' ta me after I stole it from tha' Edwards bloke so I couldn't give it ta 'im quite yet. I be sure ye remember, _Friar Brayden Gale…_"

"Edwards? Tha' officer ye 'ad ta visit after ye left th' Turners?"

"Aye. Now will ye _please_ jus' drop th' subject, Jack?" she almost pleaded him.

"Nay, I will not. I wanna take a look at tha' map ye've stolen. An' why do ye still 'ave it with ye? Didn't they search ye when they apprehended ye?"

She grinned at the memory, instantly forgetting how much he made her blood boil just moments ago. "Tha' they did. Jus' not good enough." She winked. Then she was silent for a moment and tapped her index finger on her chin, contemplating, before she rambled on. "Funny thin' is Jack, a few days after they searched me, _ye_ "searched" me as well an' ye ne'er found it either…."

He rubbed his chin, while a sly grin formed on his face. _So she hasn't noticed I found th' map… she still thinks she can hide it from me… wonder when she'll confide in me... or how long she's gonna keep up this act…. An' now tha' I think 'bout it, jus' WHY is it tha' I didn't notice tha' those nights we spent together? She was stark naked an' I didn't see it in 'er boot then…. _Suddenly it hit him, she had used her body as a diversion and it had worked like a bloody charm. _Devon, ye sly little mix you…_

As the memory of those steamy hot nights stirred up his emotions again, he quickly shoved it aside, determined to make her crack and confess. "Found it now though, did I not?"

"Jack," she pleaded. "Don't do this…"

"Yer beggin' me? Hmmm I like th' sound o' tha'."

"I'm not beggin' ye, ye twit. I am merely endin' this discussion. Since it seems I 'ave better things ta do… like grace th' guns o' this pathetic ship with me presence." She said as she turned on her heel and made way to the armoury. She had riled up his anger by saying his ship was pathetic, and she knew it. But he had just hurt her, by trying to make her betray her own Captain. Regardless of the fact she was in love with Jack, he had taken one step too far. And she had already told him too much. Devon's own temper surged through her body again when he ordered her to stop. Devon huffed and shoved him aside forcefully as she stormed down the corridor.

"DAMN, DAMN THA' MAN!" she hissed while she kicked the wall with her boots. She was livid. How could he put her on the spot like that? Did he not see that was he was asking her was close to committing mutiny against her Captain? She was too angry to notice the footsteps that were following her. So she was startled when she was pulled in to a stop by a hand on her shoulder and his velvet voice coming from behind her.

"Ye really should learn ta control that anger, tart."

"Why are ye followin' me, fruitcake?" she scolded at him.

"Enough with th' pastries!" he said waving his hands. "I happen ta have a proposition fer ye."

_He mus' be serious. Don't hear a hint of sarcasm__… _Dee mused, so she turned around and faced him. His face was expressionless: no evil grin, no wicked smile, no angry frown... all she saw was a slight wrinkle on his forehead, just below his bandana… _He IS serious..._

Devon put her hands on her hips and cocked her head, "Alright, I'm listening."

"Ye show me tha' map an' I'll help ye get tha' treasure."

She snorted. "Oh what a generous offer, Jack! I suppose you'll want no cut o' th' swag when we find it, right?"

"Well," he paused, "ye know me better than that, luv."

She gave him a venomous glare. "Aye, Jack, I do. An' tha' be exactly why I am not goin' ta show ye th' map an' tha' be exactly why ye're gonna stop forcin' me in a direction I don' wanna go in, savvy?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, yet said nothing.

"I said "_Savvy_?" Capt'n!" she growled. "What's 'a matter, cat got yer tongue?"

He sighed in resignation. "Alright woman, savvy." _God, I feel fer Drake. She must drive him out o' 'is mind. _A thought popped in to his mind… _She'd make a great Capt'n, she's got what it takes…_

"Fine! Finally I got me point came across. Now kiss me, ye scumbag."

Despite his disappointment earlier, despite her name-calling, or maybe it was just because of that, Jack smirked and leaned in to kiss her. Her tongue ravaged his mouth in an angry kiss. She kissed him so forcefully he felt her teeth on his lips. Jack couldn't help but feel aroused again. She was dangerous, and they both knew it. It was because she knew what it took to drive him to the brink. His hands roamed her body, pulling her closer to him. When his ring clad hands travelled along her spine down to her buttocks, he felt the map again. For one tiny moment his fingers hovered over the parchment, as they itched to take it, but landed on her muscular bum instead.

After a breathtaking kiss, Devon pulled back and placed her hands on his broad shoulders. "If ye get me back ta me righteous Capt'n, Capt'n, I'll ask Drake 'bout lettin' ye in on it, but don't ask me ta show ye th' map again. Ever. I might be a dishonest woman, but I'm loyal ta me Capt'n."

"Can ye be loyal ta this Capt'n?" he asked teasingly while he licked her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

Regardless of herself, her heart jumped in her throat at his words. Was he insinuating what she thought he was? _Dad, were ye right 'bout 'im?_ _Is 'e sayin' wha' I think 'e is?_

Devon looked in his eyes and shoved that thought away from her mind. "If ye can tame me, who knows, Sparrow…"

"Could Drake tame ye?" he asked while he played with one of her curls.

"Drake's a fine man an' all, but he can't tame me. No man e'er could an' I doubt someone e'er will…" she smiled.

"Is that a challenge?" he said with narrowed eyes, twinkling with pleasure.

"Might be," she said flirtatious lilt in her voice. "Ye can try, like so many 'ave… but no man has succeeded. An' ye won't succeed either." _Ye sure 'bout tha' one Dee?_

"As long as I'm on yer Black Pearl I'll consider ye me Capt'n, but as soon as I get home I'll answer ta no one other than Drake, an' still I don't always answer ta him…" she quipped.

"Hmmm…" he said deviously. "But this means I've still got a few more days ta order ye around…."

Her smile grew wicked, "Ne'er said tha', mon Capitan." And with that she turned on her heel and finally went to the armoury.

"I'll go 'n see if I do anythin' with yer guns. Assumin' ye won't use 'em against _Th' Hazard_ that is…"

"I give no guarantees, Duville…" he smirked.

"Neither do I, Sparrow."

"Captain!" he shouted after her.

"Ain't no Capt'n yet, Sparrow, Duville will do fer now," she quipped, while she felt a wet mop flying past her head.

"Ye should try an' control yer temper, dear. At yer age, ye should take things easier, think 'bout yer heart…" she said loudly, trying to keep from laughing as she walked away.

She could hear him muttering and cursing while he walked back up the stairs, making the wooden stairs squeak from the force of his steps.

AnaMaria popped her head round the corner and laughed.

"Ye ne'er change, do ye, spitfire?" Ana grinned.

Devon smirked. "Nah, I stick wit' th' things I do best…"

"He hates it when ye do tha', Dee. Ye should watch yer steps."

"I know 'e does, tha's what makes it so much fun."

"'Ow long where ye standin' there anyways?" Devon asked with curiosity.

"Long enough spitfire. There's somethin' goin' on b'tween th' two o' ye. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Ye're in love with 'im! Just admit it already!"

"Am not!"

AnaMaria glared at her friend with her eyes narrowed, "Are too!"

"Am NOT!"

"Devon, I've know ye since forever, an' 'sides tha' I've seen th' way ye two look at each other…"

Devon tried to put on a mask of ignorance, but that didn't work as well as she wanted.

AnaMaria gave her a knowing smile. "Don't try ta hide it, Dee. It's worthless anyway, 'cause even if I didn't know ye as well as I do, last night told me all I need ta know. Ye talked in yer sleep after ye drank a few. An' let me tell ye tha' ye rambled quite a bit las' night."

Dee's face flushed with crimson and she fled from her friend, tending to the ship's guns, cursing the day Jack Sparrow had crossed her path.

Truth be told, Ana was dead right. There was an undeniable physical attraction between her and the kohl rimmed Captain, but in spite of all her efforts to keep it physical, her heart had betrayed her. It had started burning and beating for him. It was foolish, annoying and just plain stupid, but all her struggles to kill those feelings had been futile. They started without her knowledge and now she just couldn't switch them off.

She had promised herself, a long time ago, that she would never fall in love again. That she would separate love from lust, and to subside only to the latter one, until her dying day. That had been her way of life for years now, different lovers in every port, just taking, never giving. She had felt with her body, not with her heart. But due to this man, her whole world was tossed upside down and her goals shattered. He had made her succumb to him, the bastard had made her long for his touch, he had made her erase the border, he had her break her own rules and that wasn't even the worst of it. No, the worst was that the bastard had made her fall in love with him. She didn't know when it happened. She didn't know how or why, but regardless of the sign she had gotten while she was out of her body, she hated herself because she let it happen.

She was aware of the way Jack's body reacted to hers, the way his hungry eyes looked at her, even in the midst of one of their almost constant fights. He wanted her physically. She could tell that easily by any one of the signs he gave off. But he was a man, he was able to separate lust from love, just like she had been able to before _he_ had waltzed in her life. He had told her how he felt, but still a part of her didn't believe him. Hell, a part of her still didn't even believe her own feelings. Or maybe it was that she didn't want to believe them….

The fact that she and Jack had talked things over, that he had apologized for his behaviour in the "Willing Wench," and that they had spent the past two nights in each others company in secret… didn't mean it was meant to be. They were both not the kind to let themselves get tied down. Jack wasn't a one woman man and she wasn't a one man woman either…

By the time she finally made it into the armoury, Gibbs stood with his back turned to her and by the looks of things he was drinking. A wicked smile curled her lips and she decided it would be most delightful to scare the shit out of the poor man.

Oh yes, Devon Duville was ready to harass some more….

"Gibbs, ye handsome bugger ye! Capt'n said ye wanted ta see me?" she shouted, clapping poor Gibbs firmly on the right shoulder.

"Curse ye fer breathin'! Ye nearly made me choke on me cork!" the older man muttered while he turned around.

Devon grabbed hold of the flask he carried, "That'll teach ye ta be drinkin' alone. Frightful bad luck ta drink alone near th' cannons, mate. Ye as an old seadog should know tha'. B'fore ye know it ye're blowin' holes in yerself or in me fer tha' matter. Can't 'ave that now can we?" with finishing her sentence she gulped down what was left in Gibbs' canister in one long swig.

"What th' Devil..." he stumbled.

"Oh come now don't fret gorgeous, I took care o' th' hazard fer ye... no danger anymore… now where be Jack's big guns, eh? Or would ye rather like me ta take a look at yers?" she quipped as she bent over to lift the hem of his shirt up.

His eyes widened as he struggled to focus on the woman in front of him, or Lucifer's Daughter in his point of view. And then he fled. The poor man ran as fast as his old sea legs could carry him, straight into Jack's quarters.

Devon simply shrugged her shoulders and searched for tools so she could get to work, humming and smirking all the while.

Jack had given her permission to inspect his cannons and guns and inform Gibbs and the rest of them what needed to be done with them. Little did he know that Devon just couldn't help herself while she was down in his armoury and took her time with her work. After she had scared away Gibbs, thus getting rid of her male chaperone, she embraced the opportunity to finally DO something, other than sitting around in her and Ana's cabin at day and getting frisky with Jack at night that was.

After Devon had studied Jack's cannons for a while, she had become even more impressed with the ship she currently sailed on. She had urged Drake a few years ago to invest some of the bounty in better cannons, and even though it took a bit of urging and smart mouthing on her part to wear him down, eventually he gave in. The comment that won him over was when Devon insisted that he use her part of the swag to pay for the cannons. But even with that _The Hazard's_ cannons were nothing compared to _The Pearl's_. She sighed as she remembered the fit she had gotten Drake into back then. She missed him... the ship... the whole lot of them. Granted, there was the month or so each year that she would part with them when she stayed behind in Singapore to stay with Lee and hone her artistry on the skin of all those sailors that came in. But that was different. She was without them at those times by choice. Now she had been forced away from them and couldn't help but miss all of her crewmates terribly.

While reminiscing about old times, she let her hands slide over the barrel of one of the cannons. Sure, they were old, but they were beautifully decorated and she could tell they had a wide range. Two of the cannons she had inspected had been damaged. Devon wondered how that damage could have happened and how Jack could have escaped such a crossfire. She caressed the cool barrel of the cannon in front of her, letting her hands slide across it, grazing the fuse. More and more memories of her life aboard _The Hazard_ found their way into her mind. When her eyes travelled across the armoury and fell upon the powder stash, she couldn't help but grin. She and Dacosta had checked the powder supplies on _The Hazard_ a few years back and Devon couldn't get him to focus. Every time Devon stretched herself, he'd loose count. Dacosta had always been very uncomfortable around her, and Devon enjoyed getting on his nerves tremendously. Leading him on constantly... but then she'd turn him down. She was his superior and he just had to square with that some day. The grin on her lips faded as she sighed. Then she pulled herself together and rolled up her sleeves.

She tried to pull the cannon back a bit further, so she could inspect the barrel from the inside. Her muscles tensed as she put her strength into moving the heavy cannon, determined to do it herself since there would be hell to pay if Jack found out she was doing this. Her chest hurt as she braced herself for one last pull and a veil of sweat started to form on her brow as she hissed between her teeth. _MOVE! Move just a bit more..._ Devon wouldn't admit to herself she had lost some of her strength after she had been swept overboard, so she kept struggling, determined to finish the job herself. She had done it countless of times before. It was hard and heavy work, but because all the men aboard _The Hazard_ had told her it wasn't possible for a woman to do it herself and she wasn't fit to do it, she had trained herself and finally she had succeeded. Stubbornness and persistence would get you anywhere. _Jus' put yer mind ta th' task Dee... _she groaned when she put all her strength into it and finally the cannon moved. She leaned back on it, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off her brow with her sleeve. The muscles in her arms and shoulders tingled and the pain in her chest resurfaced. Devon let herself slide down, resting her head back against the cannon's base.

Joshamee Gibbs didn't bother knocking, he just burst through the doors shouting, "Capt'n, great expertise or no, I don't give a hoot! I ain't working with tha' woman!"

Jack smiled when he saw the frightened look in his quartermaster's eyes. "Wha' woman? I've told ye time an' time 'gain. Ana's me first mate, woman or not, you'll do as she tells ye."

"It's not AnaMaria, it's the spawn o' Satan ye've brought aboard. Liked 'er better when she almost drowned I did," Gibbs spat, his fingers trembled as he rubbed his evil eye charm.

"There, there now Joshamee, ye don't mean tha'... Wha's she done this time?" Jack couldn't help but smile as he propped his feet on his desk to listen out what Devon had done to anger Gibbs.

"She drank me rum 'n tried ta seduce me!"

Jack couldn't help himself and burst into laughter. Tears of laughter ran down Jack's cheeks and he had to hold his stomach. When Gibbs cleared his throat he pulled himself together and wiped the black kohl smudges away.

"Sorry mate, but what _exactly_ did she do or say ta offend ye in such a manner?" he encouraged Gibbs and pointed to the chair across from him. He had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to contain the laughter that was still tickling his throat.

Later that night…

The sky was painted with stars, twinkling and shimmering above the black ship that was sailing among the silvery waves of the vast ocean. A lonesome figure could be seen at the helm on the deck. It was Jack's turn to take the night watch, while the rest of the crew had retreated to their quarters and their hammocks and Ana and Devon had gotten comfortable in the cabin they shared with each other. He had sent his bo-sun, Riley, away convincing him that he could manage without him. The water was still, there was a crisp breeze and a big moon. Jack made it clear there were going to be no interferences.

A smile formed on his lips as he thought of her. Devon. He didn't know if they could have a future together or how long it would last, but right now, at this particular point in time, everything was perfect. Once they found _The Hazard_ and Devon reunited with Drake, then they'd figure out where they would go from there. _But there's no reason ta worry 'bout tha' now..._ He looked at the stars above him. _S__he should've been 'ere by now…_ They had spent the last few nights in secret together. Devon would sneak out of her cabin and meet Jack on deck, in his quarters or wherever they could see each other without rousing suspicion.

As soon as Devon heard soft snores drift across the small room, she quietly slipped out of her bunk. She tiptoed over to AnaMaria to make sure her friend was really asleep. Devon poked her in the side with two fingers, but when Ana just mumbled and turned over in her sleep, she was reassured that her friend wouldn't wake up in the midst of her escape. Devon had done the very same thing countless of times before when she snuck out of others' beds and bedrooms so she had become rather skilled at the routine. She tiptoed barefoot towards the door, dressed in a nightshift she had borrowed from Ana and quietly opened and closed the door behind her. When she reached the deck there was a silvery moon above her, lighting her way to the helm.

When she reached Jack, she threw her arms around his waist and buried her face in his unruly salty smelling hair... "I'm 'ere an' I missed ye…"

He turned around and hauled her closer to him by her waist "Ye did? Hmmmm, well I'll have ta see what can be done 'bout tha'. An' jus' in case ye wanted ta know, I missed ye too silly harlot!" then his lips claimed hers and their tongues danced along the other. Devon enjoyed the little teases Jack gave her and moaned softly when he nibbled on her bottom lip. When his wet red tongue slid along the side of her neck, across the scar, towards her earlobes, Devon gasped and gently pushed him away. "Jack... what if someone sees us?"

Jack kissed the tip of her nose. "Who's ta see us, luv? There be no one 'ere 'cept fer ye an' I."

"Aye fer th' moment there isn't, but what if some one catches us? One o' these days we'll get caught, Sparrow."

An incubus formed on the Captain's lips as he waved his hand in front of her face. "I ne'er once pegged ye fer th' type who'd care if someone were ta see 'er in th' stark or in action fer tha' matter, darlin'."

She slapped his arm away. "Ye know I don' give a rats-ass 'bout tha', it jus'... I don't wanna been seen 'ere, with ye... we 'ad an agreement Jack!"

"Jus' teasin' ye luv, don't fret... c'mere," he whispered and pulled her in front of him, pinning her effectively between him and the wheel.

Automatically her hands found the pegs and there was a shiver going through her body for a moment... the wood was smooth and felt cool against her callused hands, and it felt so good to hold them. Jack kissed the side of her neck and lapped his wet red tongue over her collarbone. Devon gasped again, "Mmmmm… ye really 'ave a talent fer tha' Jack."

"I know luv... same as ye 'ave a talent fer steerin' me dark lady." He grinned, his teeth nearly shimmering in the moonlight. "An' I also 'appen ta know tha' if I do this..." he gently bit in the tender flesh in her collar and she couldn't help but make a quiet moan. "it helps keep ye from talkin'."

"Wanker," she whispered smiling.

"Harlot," he whispered back.

Devon let go of the wheel with one hand and patted Jack's side until she reached the pocket in his waistcoat in which he kept his peculiar compass. Jack couldn't suppress a deep moan, when she "accidentally" let her fingers slide over his crotch, which was already pulsating in his breeches.

"Vixen," he breathed.

"Like tha' eh?" she taunted, while she flipped Jack's weather beaten compass open.

Then she blinked her eyes, "Jack?"

"What luv?"

"Yer compass be broken. How can ye keep course wit' this thin' when it ain't pointin' north…" Devon shook it and held it upside down to see if the needle would move, but nothing she tried moved the needle back in the direction she was looking for. No matter what she did, the needle kept pointing towards Jack.

"It ain't pointin' north luv…" he stated amused with what he saw.

"Did I not jus' say tha' ye dense prick?"

He cleared his throat. "It doesn't point north, 'cause it points ta what the person holdin' it desires most."

"Ah," she said flatly, flustered now she realised why the needle had pointed to Jack. She held it upside down and gave it back to him.

"I saw where the needle pointed to, darlin'," he said while he let his hands slide underneath her thin shift.

"How did ye come by this compass, then?" she asked, ignoring the fact that he now knew what she wanted most.

"Bartered it from an old friend" he whispered.

As he gently claimed her lips in a passionate kiss, he looked at his compass while he held it. It was no surprise to him that the needle spun, and then pointed to the woman he currently held in his arms.

**X****-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X (start of X-segment)**

Devon rolled her eyes and started to untie his sash. "I'm gettin' sick o' hearin' tha' constantly, so let's give th' infamous Captain Jack Sparrow another task eh?" she said, staring deep into his eyes as she swiftly tied his hands to the wheel. The moonlight made her eyes sparkle even more and she grinned up at him. "Th' lit'le one I mean." And she swiftly unfastened the ties in his breeches with one hand.

"Something tells me ye do tha' often ta be so good at it… undoin' a man's tying's with one hand I mean…" he whispered hoarsely, not being able to suppress a flash of jealousy while he gave that thought more consideration. But then he felt her tongue swirl underneath his bellybutton and shoved that jealousy to the back of his mind.

Devon smiled. "Let's not talk 'bout th' past Jack, or rather... let's not talk at all. Lemme just give th' lit'le Captain a bit o' me special treatment, eh?"

Jack smiled devilishly and felt his blood rush in his ears, but then her words caught up with him and he stared at her – wide eyed – as their meaning finally set in. "It AIN'T LITTLE!"

Devon skilfully revealed Jack's – really not so little at all – little Captain and looked at it, then bent down and lapped the tip of her tongue across its tip. It was only a single stroke with the tip of her warm, wet tongue along the head of his little Captain, but to Jack… it was a teasingly long and slow lap and he… well, Jack nearly choked.

Then Devon looked up, to see Jack looking skyward, squinting his eyes shut and biting his bottom lip. "How would ye know it ain't little, Jack, ever compared?" Devon's eyes blazed with mischief as she said the words that smacked Jack back into reality AGAIN. All the erotica surrounding them had vanished. Instantly. It was all because of that damned mouth of hers… _Quite a talented one too… Gods this harlot really does know how ta push me buttons an' drive me crazy._

"Well?" Devon urged, "Did ye?"

"Nay! O' course not!" he hissed. "What do ye take me for?"

She smiled. "An idiot… an annoying pain in th' ass… stupid… need I go on, darlin'?" she teased.

When she saw Jack's hands curl into fists and his knuckles turn white, she almost couldn't hold her laughter. _Darlin' ye've such a fragile an' abso-bloody-lutely HUGE ego… _She bit her lip in an attempt to stop herself from laughing like hell and actually managed to swallow it down.

"Well Capt'n, I 'appen ta 'ave seen many a cock in me time… and yers… well…." she giggled. She knew that he was just an inch away from going over the edge. His fists were starting to tremble from anger.

"What's wrong with me cock, tart? Ye – an' a whole lot o' others I assure ye, A WHOLE LOT O' OTHERS – ne'er complained 'bout me size b'fore. In fact, I can recall _ye_ referrin' ta me as... an' I quote: 'Hung like a horse'!" he almost shouted at her.

Devon brought her head up again and kissed him, or tried to, but Jack turned his head away.

"Oh c'mon Jack, don't be a pansy, I was jus' teasin' ye…" she soothed him while she got on her knees. "Yer cock's fine Jack, in fact if it were any bigger, I wouldn't be able to do this…." Devon moved closer and opened her mouth engulfed it in her mouth. Jack relaxed under her ministrations. She was gently rubbing his balls in one hand and stroking his length with the other. He could feel the back of her throat against its head and her tongue as it slid against and along it, sending horrifyingly pleasant feelings through him.

"Evil… evil vixen ye are… Yer gonna be th' death o' me!" Jack grinned raucously while his hands were trying to escape from the wheel, he wanted to run his hands trough her wild mess of curls so he could pull her head even closer to his hips, but he couldn't since she had tied him so tightly to the wheel. He loved this about her, she could drive him up the wall with anger, but then she always redeemed herself. Things were sure as hell never dull with her. It was like there were more sides to her personality, each of them different, but he loved them all. Jack nearly choked when she took him in even deeper. It was so warm…. So narrow… so… heavenly. He was already on the verge of climaxing. He could sense that warm tingling sensation that started in the pit of his stomach as it spread its way throughout his body.

As he softly moaned her name and grinded his hips into the cave of her mouth, he suddenly felt a sharp flash of pain.

"Damnit Devon ye BIT me!" he snapped. "Ye BIT me fer chrissakes! Why th' Devil would ye BITE me?"

Devon looked up at him, batting her eyelashes innocently, her lips still wrapped around his penis and then she sucked. Slow and gentle sucks, which were soon followed by harder, more devious ones.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh Devooooooooooooooooooon!" he shouted as he came, his knees buckled as he filled her mouth with his warm seed, forgetting he could wake the whole ocean up with his roar. The sensation of his prior pain made the climax even more intense. He couldn't see or think straight.

Devon reached up and clamped one hand over his mouth, stifling said roar, before she swallowed his seed down. It was something she had never done before. Jack's semen tasted a bit salty, a bit bitter and a bit like rum. She wouldn't describe it awful, but it wasn't going to be one of her favourite flavours either.

"Don't scream like tha' ye pansy, ye'll wake up th' whole damned ship! Now get on yer hands 'n knees an' pay me back!"

The Captain in Jack should be offended, but the man in Jack liked a woman in charge. And the man in Jack loved this one when she acted this way. When Devon got up and kissed him zealously, Jack could taste his desire on her lips as she freed him from his restraints. Jack rubbed his wrists. They were slightly red from the burnings he had caused while trying to break free from them.

"Alrigh' ye sassy wench, let Capt'n Jack work 'is magic on ye now…" his voice was extremely low and husky as he put his hands between her legs and spread them. He could feel her arousal on his fingertips and he couldn't prevent two fingers from sliding inside of her.

"Ye want me don't ye Duville?" he grinned teasingly.

Devon didn't answer, she felt his fingers sliding in and out of her and she sensed her body reacting to even the slightest touch he gave her.

"Oh yes, Duville… ye want me…. Ye want me bad," he growled raucously.

He moved his lips towards the curls between her legs and blew softly on it. The warmth of his breath combined with his teasing fingers drove Devon wild. She felt her legs tremble and when Jack spread his fingers to reveal her glistening, swollen pearl and lapped his eager tongue across it. Devon's knees now bucked and she gasped. She grabbed a hold of his hair, using him to support her.

He moved away from her for a moment. "Tell me how much ye want me darlin'…" he growled as he looked up to her. A wicked grin formed on his lips as he saw both the blazing fire in her eyes and her biting her lip as she looked back at him.

Devon was breathing so heavily that she couldn't answer him right away. "I want ye Jack… just don't stop!"

He grinned as he leaned forward again. He could feel the damp warmth of her body on his lips as he licked her again. Briefly. Just another stroke. He was going to tease her like she had teased him. An eye for an eye, a lick for a lick. He stopped again, smelling her arousal and he could see a glistening trail of her desire slide down from between her legs.

"So wet luv…" he stated. Knowing he was driving her mad by holding back like this. Devon wanted things her way, she had made that clear from the first time he had bedded her, but now they were on his Pearl. He outranked her. Therefore he was the one in charge.

"Jack go on! Go on!" she urged him, grinding her pelvis toward his face.

"So wet… so eager…" he growled, his voice dropping even more. He could barely restrain himself either but he wanted to see her squirm first. Devon trigged the beast in him. He had bedded so many women before this raven haired one had crossed his path. He had enjoyed every woman in her own way, but no one, not even the ones he held special memories of, could match Devon in passion. She loved it as much as he did, and feeling the way her body responded to his and vice versa, he knew that making love to another woman would never get as good as this.

He licked her again delicately slow and she moaned loudly. It was a primal growl and it seemed to come from deep inside of her. He licked again, sucking, licking. Devon hold on his locks got tighter, and he could feel her nails digging into his scalp. He sucked again and then he let his tongue slide inside of her. He felt the warmth of her body on his tongue and the passion she felt for him.

"Jack please…. Fuck me… Now!"

"Yer beggin' me again, luv?" he smiled against her warm pelvis "I could get used to tha'…"

He slid two fingers inside of her again and licked harder. She curled in pleasure but when her body twitched and trembled he stopped. Devon craved him. Her heart seemed to pound its way out of her chest. She had long forgotten the pain her chest still caused her when she and Jack engaged in such activities. She couldn't hold back, she needed to go on, come hell or high water, she needed to go on until gravity would claim her again. Jack could sense how close she was to coming, but it wasn't time yet. He wanted her to come as he did and he was determined delay it… just a bit longer.

"Turn around!" he ordered. Devon grabbed hold of the pegs of the wheel, somewhere deep down, she knew they must have drifted off course due to their escapade, but now was not the time to correct the error.

Just as she wanted to ask him what he was about to do, he pushed her head down to make her bend and took her forcefully from behind. Jack couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled her head back by her hair, he could hurt her, he knew, but he also knew she liked things rough. As he sped up his pace and thrusted harder into her, Devon's hand went down between her legs to stroke herself. Faster and faster she went to keep up with Jack's pace. She bent down further to take him in even deeper and she had to grasp the wheel with both hands to keep herself from collapsing when her release came. Jack felt her narrowing around him and groaned as he pounded into her once last time before he poured his warm passion into her. Then he fell forward and rested his head on her back, his dreads tickling the shivering skin of her shoulders.

**X****-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X (end of X segment)**

Devon's legs almost gave away and she breathed rapidly. This man could turn her into putty in his hands. And for the first time in her life, she didn't mind.

"Jack?" she whispered hoarsely.

Jack had to regain his breath, he had given her all he had and it was so intense… He felt empty yet so fulfilled.

"What?" he gasped. "What is it luv?"

"I lov–" she stopped mid sentence. She couldn't bring herself to say it. Not yet at any rate. That did not mean Devon did not want to tell him. Had she said the words aloud that she had spoken in her mind so many times, she would have meant every word, but she just couldn't. She doubted she ever could. She had realized she loved him and that was enough. There was no need to tempt the Gods.

"Tha' was amazin' Jack…" she said instead.

For a moment Jack's eyes narrowed… _She started ta say somethin' else…_

"Aye luv… it was. An' now I be needin' a smoke…" he whispered back as he gently pulled himself out of her. He kissed her nape and pulled her nightshift down gently caressing her bare bottom as he did so.

"I didn't know ye smoked," she said as she got back up, shaking slightly on her somewhat unsteady legs. She felt their fluids slide down her legs, leaving a small turbid puddle on deck next to her left foot.

"Hardly e'er do darlin'. But I've been savin' this one…" he said while he took a Cuban cigar out of his vest pocket, sniffing the exquisite scent of the tobacco, "…fer a special occasion."

"An' this would be a special occasion, why?" she asked, straightening his clothes and taking out his compass again. She studied it for a moment, trying to figure out how it worked, but sighed and decided to save that conversation for another night. As she closed the compass, she gazed up at the stars. Then she turned the wheel about to correct their position. They had drifted farther off course than she had imagined….

Jack lit a match to light his cigar and the light illuminated her face, her beautiful face. There she stood, behind the wheel of his ship again, like she had always been there with him, with them. He looked down on the wooden floor of the deck. He saw the puddle next to Devon's foot and he smiled genuinely at the sight. His two favourite ladies, joined together with him. He and Devon mingled with the black wood of his first love. And he knew. He knew for certain as he inhaled deeply, shaking the matchstick out and tossing it casually overboard.

"Cause yer mine…" he whispered next to Devon's ear as he released a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.

To be continued….

Until next time,

Your thankful and newly inspired Author.

Your reviews are wonderful! I love you guys!


	28. Dealings with rum and women

**_Just a little warning before you read that there is adult material in this chapter again ... the story is rated M for a reason. Thanks!_**

**E/n: Hello Lovelies! I know this chappie took a little while to get out, but you know DuTchess and I well enough by know … we are in love with this story and want it to be perfect for you all. She went away on vacation before she sent put this chapter in my 'capable hands' to 'work my magic' on before posting it for her. So alas, there is no message from her this time, but rest assured, she still loves each and every one of you and can't wait to see what you think of this new addition. So without further ado… **

_**Chapter 28**_

_**Dealings with rum and women**_

"_Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut." _

_Ernest Hemmingway_

Cotton couldn't believe his eyes.

The shock was clearly written across his face as his mouth dropped open. What he saw took is breath away. It didn't take long for his jaw to completely hit the floor, and he was certain that his eyes couldn't get wider than they already were.

If anyone had bothered to notice, the lone figure of Mr. Cotton stood in the shadows below the helm as he saw his Captain and the Devil woman, as Mr. Gibbs called her, that he brought aboard finish what seemed to be some very vigorous sex… against the helm no less! He snapped his head up to night sky to gaze at the stars, hoping against all odds that their beauty could wipe that disturbing image from his retina. Although when he looked more closely at the stars, he noticed how far off course they had drifted while doing … that. He was a pirate and loved his women as much as the next man, and even though he had a vague idea of what his Captain did on his own time, both on the ship and off, and even though he was a typical male at sea – there were certain things that just go too far. He shook those thoughts from his mind and wondered if either his Captain or the Devil woman would realise what had happened while they were previously engaged.

Then a movement caught his eye and he looked back to the helm to see Devon turn the wheel about, correcting their position. He didn't let his eyes linger, because he surely didn't want another image burned into his retina. One was more than enough. With that he turned and rushed away, wondering if there was any way to tell his crewmates of what he'd just witnessed. He smirked. Oh would they be mad when they found out what they'd missed, that _he'd _seen no less! If only he could still talk. But he supposed that if he still had a tongue he would've nearly chewed it off in anxiety already.

He couldn't wait to find a way to tell the others.

* * *

'Cause yer mine…' 

'Come 'gain?' Devon was aghast, and quite literally gasping for air.

'Ye 'eard me darlin'. I don't like ta repeat meself…' he purred tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 'Give us a kiss 'gain now will ye?'

Devon nearly stumbled backwards to avoid his lips. 'If ye think ye can claim ownership on me yer wrong _Sparrow_.' She spat his name out with venom. 'Dead wrong. I ain't no one's property. I became a pirate ta be free, an' now here ye be, a Pirate Capt'n fer crissakes, an' ye want ta cage me!'

'But I thought tha' was what ye womanfolk wanted ta 'ear…' he soothed, stroking the palm of her hand all the while.

Devon snatched her hand away from him, as if he had burned her. ''What ye womanfolk want ta hear!' Damn it Jack! I ain't every woman an' ye can bloody well save tha' line fer yer whores an' strumpets 'cause shit like tha' don't work on th' likes o' me!' Devon was seething with anger. If he'd said that he loved her, or that he wanted her to remain in his life in some way from there on as equals, she would've been in his arms in a heartbeat. But _this! _This was as if Francis Steward had never left… as if he had just taken on a new appearance, one that looked very much like the Captain Jack Sparrow she _used_ to know….

_Why? Why must all men be like tha'? Damn 'em all! _

_Hear him out Devony… _her father's stern voice of reason spoke to her in her mind

_Like Hell I will! _she all but shouted back at him. She was a force to be reckoned with at the moment, and did NOT want to be coddled by her father of all people. Her hands were curled into fists, and she clenched them so hard that she felt her fingernails dig into the flesh of her palms, as well as rivulets of blood trickling down her fingertips.

'Devon darlin' wait!' he shouted, locking the wheel in place with his sword. 'Damnit! I didn't mean that… it – it came out wrong…. Devon, please, would ye just wait?'

'Leave me be!' Devon ran from him, fleeing for the solace of her cot. Once she got inside safely, she collapsed onto the bunk, covered herself with every blanket she could find and hugged her precious, snoring dog close to her.

'I be such a fool, Bullet… A damned fool fer thinkin' tha' he'd be different. First 'e breaks me 'eart an' now 'e thinks 'e can _own_ me…! Why?' She whispered to her dog as she stroked it behind its pointy ears. The snoring ceased for a moment and Bullet lapped its tongue across the bridge of Devon's nose, licking away a tear that Devon didn't even realise she had shed.

* * *

Jack ran after her, but when she slammed the door in his face, he sighed and returned to the helm. 

'Damn me an' me big mouth!' he cursed himself. He should have known that Devon wasn't the kind of woman who would want to hear something like that, even if it had sounded so good in his mind.

Jack knew better than to keep after her and try to make amends. When she was angry Devon was like a raging bullet, and everything she could grab hold of was going to be used as a projectile. Therefore he figured that letting her cool off might just be a good idea for all involved.

When he got back to the helm and retrieved his sword from the wheel, he turned and saw Cotton out of the corner of his eye, mopping the deck.

'Mornin' Cotton.'

The old man nodded his head to him and then looked at him. Jack saw the questioning look on his face but paid no further attention to it. He would have to make things right with Duville before she returned to Drake… if he didn't then she would vanish from his life for good. He didn't want to even think about the trouble that could cause for him.

Once Gibbs came on deck all he needed to do was take one look at Jack before he knew that there was trouble afoot.

'What ails ye Jack?'

His Captain's eyes never left the dancing horizon in front of them as he took a long swig from his canister.

'I'll ne'er fully understand 'em…' Jack muttered, more to himself than to Gibbs.

'Whom?'

'Eh?'

'Whom won't ye never fully understand?' Gibbs questioned.

'Seagulls,' Jack lied, striding out of sight and leaving a puzzled Gibbs behind him at the wheel.

He entered his quarters, pulled out the seat at his desk and let his head fall down onto the maps that were sprawled out on top of it.

'I feel tha' yer so right fer me, Duville, yet ye seem ta become th' death o' me… there just ain't no pleasin' ye…' he said aloud as he stood up. He rummaged through his cupboard to find relief from a bottle of his favourite poison. Maybe his old friend would give him a little wisdom on this most difficult matter. He didn't even bother with a mug, lifting the bottle up to his mouth and taking a long swig.

Rum and women had always been a constant factor in the Captain's life, but he was only faithful to the first. And earlier that night he was almost certain he could remain faithful to this particular woman too. But he didn't know what to think at the moment … he wasn't too sure she deserved this kind of devotion from him. Not when Devon had made it crystal clear she didn't want those kinds of 'favours'. Maybe it was just all sex and lust and had he misread the signals she had given him. He didn't know exactly why she had such a hold over him. She was beautiful to be sure, but to be perfectly honest he had seen prettier specimens on his journeys. It wasn't her sweetness either. Devon Duville may have been many things, but sweet wasn't one of them. The woman was a menace who could send even the toughest of men to an early grave. Then what was so special about this one? What was it that made him want to hold on to her?

He took another long swig from his bottle and twirled the rest of its contents around, simply trying to figure out what it was about this woman….

Adventure. That was it. She was an adventure. Unpredictable and slightly bonkers, that's what she was. And that was what made him fall for her. He loved how she could naturally make situations fall in her favour. Other relationships went in a straight line. Theirs kicked and screamed and was dragged all over the place, but he needed that. Dullness and settling down wasn't what he desired… he needed a woman that wanted thrills and adventure just like he did. He lived for the days when he had no idea of how it would turn out.

'God, I'm goin' ta loose 'er by makin' 'er think I want somethin' I don't think I e'er really wanted ta begin wit'…'

He downed the last of the rum, stripped down and went to bed. He knew that he needed to set things straight…but he didn't know how. He had never been in this kind of situation. Hell, he never even made it to the next morning with all those others.

* * *

Devon hadn't given up the battle with her father yet. He continued to berate her in her head, and as strange as that may sound, Devon didn't think much of it as she continued to yell back. 

He tried to convince her how Jack Sparrow wasn't like Francis Steward, how Jack was a free spirited man and how she needed to hear him out.

She, on the other hand, would hear none of it. All men were alike, all men were pigs and all men wanted to claim a woman as their prize.

It took a while for her father to wear her down. He just needed to make her think about what he had said. He knew that once he got her to that point, he could cease his arguments and let Devon take care of the rest. He was sure she would see the light and would go and see Jack any time now…

Devon could scream. How did her father do this? _E'ery single bloody time 'e manages ta make me in th' wrong! _She sighed. But when she really thought about it, she realised that Jack really _was_ unlike other men – even from the start. But how would he think he could tie her down? She knew that he wouldn't give up sailing nor did she want him to. But he should realise that she wouldn't either… He must have known that Devon would never turn her back on Drake and her crewmates. She sighed again and let her head fall into her hands.

'Alrigh' da' ye win! I'll go talk ta th' bastard!' And with that she swung her legs over the side of the bunk and got dressed.

She didn't need to sneak out since Ana was no where in sight. Since Jack had undoubtedly traded places with either Gibbs or Riley behind the wheel, she gathered he was asleep in his quarters.

She snuck down the corridor, and crept silently into his chambers. There she saw the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, sprawled out on his back with sheets pulled over him that covered very little of his naked body.

She smiled in spite of herself. He looked so innocent while he slept. It was certainly not doing anything for his reputation, but she found it endearing.

As Devon approached the bed she spotted the empty bottle of rum and her smile turned into a smirk. Her ego swelled at the thought of him coming down to his quarters after their spat and drinking himself into a stupor. And she knew just how to wake him….

'Sparrow?'

He didn't respond, but just kept on snoring. _Tha' be quite th' stupor I'd wager…_

Devon took a quill from his desk and tickled his nose with its feather.

'Spar-row…' she mocked in a sing-song voice.

Jack slapped the feather away but he had yet to wake. So when she lifted the quill once more and stroked the feather under his nostrils, she was caught by surprise when in one swift moment he grabbed hold of her wrist and twisted it, so that the quill dropped on the sheets.

'Bloody 'ell,' she cursed at him.

'I must say…' he yawned, finally opening his eyes, 'I didn't expect ta see ye 'ere after tha' scene.'

She quirked an eybrow. 'Scene?'

He sat upright and leaned back against the headboard. 'Ye blowin' a bloody gasket callin' me a ball n' chain or something ta tha' effect if me mem'ry serves me righ'…'

Devon looked down. He was right, she had accused him of things she knew he wouldn't do.

'I've come ta apologize. Th' things tha' I said were uncalled for….' she paused for a moment and took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry.'

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 'Yer what tart?'

'Ye 'eard me. I don't like ta repeat meself,' she replied, quoting what he had said earlier. 'An' _don't_ call me tha'…' she threatened.

'What made ye want ta apologize then _Devon_? What caused such a dramatic change in yer perspec'ive I wonder…? What was it tha' made ye come 'ere an' drop th' tough act? Tell me… I'm curious.'

She smiled mysteriously. 'Let's jus' say I've 'ad a word with me ole man.'

Jack looked at her, puzzled.

'Ever since I woke up after me…accident, I could 'ear 'im in me mind. I know it must sound silly but I'm sensin' 'is presence even now… an' I can feel thin's… I don't know how ta describe it, but it's almost as if I've gotten a sixth sense or somethin'. Odd innit?'

'Odd? Highly unlikely, luv. Yer talkin' ta someone that's encountered undead skeletons b'fore… Hell, I've even _been_ one an' been immortal ta boot…. Nothin' surprises me anymore,' he mused as he patted on the mattress, inviting her to sit down next to him.

Once she sat down she instantly took his hand in her own. 'Ye need ta know tha' I don' b'lieve in all tha' mumbo jumbo an' spooky crap… an' e'en though I really think tha' I be imagin' tha' I've seen me mum 'n da' up there… it's comfortin' in a way. Gives me a form of solace, ye understand?'

He nodded, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb unconsciously, 'So, did ye ol' man tell ye what we should do?'

'Eh?'

He cupped her chin with his hands to make her look into his eyes 'I meant did 'e tell ya where ta go from 'ere? I know now tha' ye don't want me ta own ye – which I never intended by th' way," he interjected when he saw her features darken at his statement, "but since ye do however find me attractive enough ta scream me name in pleasure when we're together, an' since ye did admit there was more 'n lust involved…. I need ta know were we stand 'ere, Duville.'

'I _will_ return ta Drake. But I don't want ye out o' me life fer good after ye drop me off. Ye drive me up th' wall sometimes, Sparrow, but I can't give ye up. But ye can _not_ treat me as ye were implyin' earlier or I be leavin' as soon as bloody possible. That bein' said … I ne'er met a man like ye Jack… Most men are fun fer a night, but I find meself makin' me exit before they can bore me ta death. But with ye… t'was different. I just don't know if it'll work though Jack.' She said seriously as she stared into his eyes. Then she grinned. 'We'll more than likely end up wantin' ta kill each other b'fore th' end.'

'Most likely,' he said, 'but at least we won't get bored ta death in th' meantime.' Then he forced her down on the bed and kissed her, softly at first, but as she parted her lips to invite him in, he kissed her more passionately. Devon tried to ignore the fact that he was completely naked and on top of her, exactly as did she try not to give too much thought to the pressure that came from his manhood being pressed against her.

She grinned against his lips, pulling away slightly. 'Very true… but righ' now I wanna see th' sunrise from yer windows… too crowded on deck now.'

She crawled out from underneath him and got off from the bed, took him by the hand and led him to his windows. As they passed his desk, Devon grabbed his compass.

They stood next to each other in front of Jack's wide range of windows in complete silence. Jack looked at her from the corner of his eyes and smiled when he noticed she'd done the same. Then she averted her gaze and looked down at the compass she held. When she had established it was of no use to her, she looked out at the sea instead.

'We're goin' ta be there soon then, eh?' Devon asked as she studied Jack's odd compass again, trying to make some sense of the strange thing.

'Before nightfall I wager,' he retorted, though Devon didn't miss the soft sigh he gave before answering her question.

'Wonder if we'll find them. We usually make berth at Nonsuch Island…'

Jack couldn't help but chuckle. For a long time he had thought there really was Non Such Island and probably many more thought the very same, but then he discovered that it really was a tiny island at the northwest of Bermuda.

'Great place ta make berth… unexpected also,' he replied, taking the compass back from her.

'Mmm hmmmm, most people think it don't e'en exist,' she grinned lazily.

'Pegged 'im th' type ta make berth in Devonshire actually…'

'Stop teasin' me wit' tha' Jack. I'm beginnin' ta think yer jealous 'e found me first,' she taunted.

'Well I wouldn't exactly mind 'avin' ye as a permanent member o' me crew… ye know more 'bouts thems cannons than both Gibbs an' Jeoffreys. Tis a great asset ta any crew.'

She placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth and then tugged at his arm to make him look at the dancing horizon before them. The rippling waves glowed with a bright red orange colour as the giant dome in front of them slowly rose to reach its true magnificence. The array of colours that shined through his windows illuminated the room and gave it a magical feel.

'Ye know I'd be too much o' a distraction… as would ye,' she grinned, then she followed Jack's gaze out of the windows and sighed.

'It ne'er gets dull… does it? Every day it just makes one marvel at th' sight,' he whispered.

'Aye… makes ye proud ta sail, don't it? I mean on dry land there are always thin's in th' way… blockin' ye from seein' it…. Here there are no objects ta obstruct yer view… Feels like it's just us with th' sun… like bein' born 'gain. _This_ is true freedom,' she smiled, admiring the beautiful sunrise.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and nuzzled her hair, taking in her scent, almost savouring it since he would have to part with her soon. 'I'm gonna miss watchin' it with ye tart.'

'As will I. God's a great woman… havin' created all this,' she mused.

'Woman?' he chuckled. 'Methinks 'e's a man, Devon…. He impregnated Mary remember?'

'In me point o' view, she be a woman. Immaculate impregnation or no.'

'Stubborn as ever aren't we?'

'On o' me best traits,' she quipped, kissing him on the cheek. 'Now I'll be off, b'fore th' rest o' th' crew awakes. I'll be in th' arm'ry… I think I can work on tha' angle a bit more….'

'Work b'fore pleasure eh?'

'Oh no Captain… work be AFTER pleasure.' And with a smirk on her face, she turned and walked away from him.

Jack sighed. If they found _The Hazard_, he would have to let her go. As much as Devon had apparently enjoyed her stay aboard the _Pearl_ and as much as she had enjoyed spending time with him, she would go back to Drake. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He turned back to the windows and studied the sky again… smooth sailing was ensured.

That woman had put him under her spell. They could argue until they were both hoarse and had no voices left with which to shout any longer, but somehow they would always make amends. Both giving and taking constantly… When he pondered that thought for a moment, he realised that she had changed him – from a taker into a giver.

* * *

Cotton and his parrot quickly made their way down to the hull. He needed to wake his fellow crewmates. First he pushed against Riley's hammock, causing him to tumble out of it. 

'Damn ye ta hell 'n back, Cott'n! Could've broken something,' Riley cursed as he got on his feet.

'Captain got a giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrllllll!' the parrot shrieked and Riley looked at Cotton questioningly.

'Ye've seen something 'avent you?'

Cotton nodded fervently and pointed upstairs, towards the direction that, in Riley's point of view, must have been the helm.

'What did ye see mate!' Riley screamed, causing all of the other crewmen that were sleeping soundly just moments ago in their hammocks to open their eyes and glare over at the pair.

'Wake up mates! Cott'n's seen something goin' on b'tween Capt'n an' Duville! Innit so, Cott'n?' he nudged the older man's side and Cotton nodded his head again, so fervently that his knitted hat fell off his head.

At hearing this, all the others stumbled out of their hammocks and quickly formed a circle around Cotton.

'What did ye see?'

'Tell us man!'

'Damn it all ta th' blazes, finally someone sees some action an' th' one who gets ta see it is mute!' McCaullaign grumbled.

'Did they kiss?' one of them questioned.

Cotton nodded.

'Oh God Jack!' the parrot shrieked again, mimicking the noises it had heard on deck.

All of the men exchanged glances of disbelief.

'They had sex?'

Again, Cotton nodded, and made some very vulgar gestures to demonstrate exactly what he had seen.

'Where?'

Cotton placed his hands in the air and imitated steering the ship.

'At th' bloody helm!' Gibbs shouted. 'Ye've got to be jokin' man. Capt'n is known fer 'is fantasies, but that's nasty… even fer him!'

Cotton took Gibbs by the shoulders, forcing Gibbs to look into his eyes as he nodded his head slowly. Then he released him and drew a cross across his chest on the left side.

'E's swearin' it mate…'

'What did they do?' Riley demanded, knowing his Captain's reputation and having heard of the standing of the illustrious Devon Duville. 'Surely it was more than just th' average fuck,' he encouraged Cotton.

Cotton's parrot stuck its tongue out and made waved its tongue in the air. All eyes were one the green bird as jaws dropped.

'Surely yer not tellin' us tha' Capt'n licked 'er little man in th' boat?' Riley said breathlessly.

Again Cotton nodded.

'She did toooo!' the parrot screeched again.

'She gave 'im head?' Gibbs said wide-eyed, fidgeting with his hands, not knowing quite where to put them.

'They fucked, her licker her, _and_ she gave 'im _head_ at th' _helm_… that be what ye're tellin' us mate?'

'Wind in the sails!' shrieked the parrot.

All crewmembers stared at each other, then to the parrot and back to Cotton. Some were quite literally drooling at the mere thought… it had been a while since any of them had been with a woman, but even the paid ones didn't perform that kind of service. All of them had thought the piratess was a hazard… To be fair she could be kind occasionally, but most of them had questioned her reputation… now they realized all that scuttlebutt about her traits had been all too accurate.

'Anythin' else?' demanded Hastings.

Cotton motioned for McCaullaign to come towards him, then turning him around and dipping him at the middle, he demonstrated what else he saw by grinding his pelvis towards the other man's rear end.

'Back scuttle?' they all said breathlessly. Cotton nodded and smirked at the men.

Gibbs realised then that he had heard too much already… he quickly made his way out of the hull and towards the armoury, praying that Jack knew what he was getting himself into.

* * *

As Devon walked the stairs down to the armoury she let her hands slide over the cool wood of the _Pearl_. 

'I'll miss ye… ye be a beautiful ship. Watch out fer 'im will ye luv?' she asked, shaking her head at her own silliness of talking to a ship.

The wood cracked in an unspoken answer and she tilted her head to the side… and whispered curiously, 'Ye **will** won't ye, _Pearl_?' She stroked the wood fondly before she continued her way. Once more she heard a creaking sound coming from the wood. Devon smiled. 'I now realise why ye talked ta yer _Devotion _da'…. Bein' tha' she was beautiful as Jack's _Pearl_, I think I understand why ye felt tha' way 'bouts 'er… an' why mum was jealous o' 'er sometimes.' Devon smiled to herself.

_Takes a good sailor ta notice a fine ship, Devony… ye really do take after me…_ her father's deep voice held a hint of pride in it as it drifted to her ears from the recesses of her mind.

'Hope a good sailor is what I be, 'cause I don't fancy loosin' me mind…' she quipped. She smiled, a comfortable feeling settling inside of her, knowing that somehow her father's spirit was with her.

As she reached the armoury she opened the first two shutters on her right, letting the rays from the morning sun pour in. She stretched herself and cracked her knuckles before she went to search for her tools.

The second cannon on her left had been damaged the most. It was still out of line with the others, just where she'd left it. As she looked at it she smiled in pride. It had hurt her hellishly but she had managed to push it back all on her own, and that was something she was proud of.

Since there were no tools for welding it, she would have to use a file in an attempt to adjust the angle of the cannon in front of her. She ripped a piece of fabric from her blouse, which she used to tie her hair back so that her curls, or whatever was left of them, wouldn't fall into her eyes as she worked. Devon rolled up her sleeves and assembled the tools she needed to get the job done. Hours later when she was finally satisfied with her work, she went to her bunk to freshen up a bit.

However, when she returned to the armoury to put her tools back and realign the cannon with the rest, she found Gibbs. He was standing with his arms crossed in front of the cannon.

* * *

'Somethin' wrong Mr. Gibbs?' A soft voice called from behind him. 

It was her, Lucifer's daughter. The woman that would surely cause them to loose the _Pearl_ again… She had startled him, as she constantly did, and before he could grab hold of his evil eye charm she had taken his callused hands in her own.

'Now b'fore ye run away 'gain I wanna apologize ta ye…. I've been childish and annoyin' when I shoulda been grateful fer th' help I've received from everyone 'board this ship. I've been naught but a pain an' a menace. I know ye don't like me much an' ye don't 'ave ta, bein' tha' I've ne'er gave ye good reason ta do so, but b'fore our ways part I wanted ye ta know tha' I appreciate ye lettin' me be a part o' this crew, iffen it only was a short while. That an' I've always admired a lobster renegade.'

He stared at her, not sure what to say or how to respond. Her eyes were calm and their usual sparkle was replaced by a soft shimmer.

'H-h-how d-did ye know I was in th' Navy. Capt'n tell ye?' he stammered, knowing full well Jack never talked about anyone's past, including his own.

'Nay, he didn't need to. Yer scepticism towards women, 'specially 'board a ship, was th' first hint, an' then I saw yer canister. Th' engravin' may be faded, but I know th' design. I've seen enough o' tha' ta last me a lifetime, tha's fer certain…' she clarified, shrugging off the look on Gibbs' face at the comment. 'How long ago was it tha' ye left them sissies?' she asked as she sat herself down on one of the barrels in the armoury.

Joshamee Gibbs looked at her, absolutely astonished. She had an eye for detail, he had to admit that. Not to mention the fact that she had hit the nail right on the knob. 'T'was 'bout 15 years I wager. Best decision I've ever made,' he said as the memories played in his mind.

'Cheers ta tha'!' she smiled genuinely. 'Second best must 'ave been signin' on wit' Sparrow. He's a fine Capt'n.'

'Aye that he is…. Tho' I was just wonderin' how 'fine' ye really think 'e is. Lots o' scuttlebutt goin' 'round recently…' he let his words trail off, quirking an eyebrow, making her a little uncomfortable as to what he was implying.

'He's a fair Capt'n an' I care fer 'im. He treats 'is crew right,' she said carefully, hoping to avoid a conversation that would divulge any of her personal feelings towards Jack.

'Ye care fer him? Or ye like havin' yer way with him?' He just couldn't help himself. He needed to know if what Cotton had tried to tell them earlier was true.

'Both,' she admitted, her face dead serious. 'Is tha' all ye needed ta know? 'Cause I wanted ta show ye somethin'…'

The quartermaster muttered something under his breath at her confession, but his curiosity got the better of him and he followed her towards the row of cannons on their left.

'Tell me what ailed this beauty,' she said nodding her head towards the cannon.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow yet said nothing.

'Please, work wit' me here mate… what was wrong wit' 'er?' she encouraged.

'Barrel was damaged… never got 'er range back, we could only use th' smaller balls in it. Capt'n preferred we not use it lest it couldn't be avoided… but I haven't th' faintest clue where yer goin' with this…'

Devon guided him towards the barrel and crosser her arms in front of her chest.

Gibbs looked at her. 'Go 'head… see if she suits yer fancy now.'

He did as she told him and was stunned at what he saw. The barrel was still imperfect, but as he looked inside, it was just as smooth as the others.

''Ow did ye do that?'

'I 'ave me ways…' she said evasively. Then she clapped him on the back.

'I won't harm Jack or cause harm to 'is ship or 'is crew. Know tha'. I owe y'all too much. I don't ask fer yer blessin', an' won't be forcin' ye inta likin' me either, but Jack thinks highly o' ye an' despite me actions earlier, I do like ye.'

With that, she turned on her heel and left him behind … his mouth gaping at her last words.

**To be continued…..**

**E/n: That's all for now lovelies! Maybe ye can all review for our darling DuTchess and her mailbox will be full of reviews for the latest chapter. That'll be a nice "welcome back" gift for sure!**

**xoxo ****Linnie**


	29. A Pirates Treasure

_Disclaimer: I do not own the original characters; I just borrow them for a while_

**E/n: I'm sooo sorry this took me so long to finish lovelies. It seems that my work has finally caught up with me and that I might've taken on a little more than I should've this year … especially when the classes are hard enough by themselves. Enough about me though, DuTchess and I had a wee bit of trouble with the beginning of this chapter as well, and that only added to the delay in getting the chapter out to you all. I hope that I can make the time to get these out faster to you, I know how you love the story, but I really can't promise any regular updates. DuTchess writes this as she goes and I get the fresh chapters from her, but we'll do what we can. I hope you'll stick with us through the rough patches like this last one and let us know how we're doing. We love hearing from you! Love you all lots! Linnie**

**_A note from the DuTchess: My darling readers and most cherished reviewers, I am very sorry this update took as long as it did. First I've had a huge writers block, nothing I wrote made any sense to me and after the plot bunnies hopped back into my laptop, I've had a few personal problems to overcome. I have a form of rheumatoid arthritis (they still don't know what exactly is wrong with me, but after I visit the specialist in a week from now I hope to find out why exactly it is that my joints and especially my fingers aren't being very… let's just say.. cooperative the past few months). I've had problems for a few years but a few months ago things took a turn for the worst. Now I'm on medication and I seem to be having more good then off days lately, so writing and typing works a bit better. So I'm hanging in there and working on the next chapter as we speak, so I just hope you'll hang in there with me and Linnie as we try to update when we can. I write as much as I can when I can and after I hand it over to Linnie, she needs to fit into her hellish schedule, and because I will never EVER post a chapter if it's not edited, beta-ed and enhanced by Miss Perfect (this makes Linnie blush and I thrive on that! LOL) herself, I have to wait as patiently as the lot of you until she hands it back to me. So, no frequent updates I'm afraid, but we are NOT abandoning the story, FunkyFlamingo, you should know that, luv! So this chapter is dedicated to you, dear FF, our biggest fan who stuck by us from the first hour! Thank you for your support and encouraging reviews! And I thank all of you reviewers and silent readers (I know you're out there!) for taking time to read and review this tale…_**

_**Chapter 29**_

**A Pirate's Treasure**

"_It gives me great pleasure indeed to see the stubbornness of an incorrigible nonconformist warmly acclaimed."_

_-Albert Einstein_

'Ye do realize tha' yer temptin' th' Gods by stayin' 'ere aboard an' fer engagin' in such… nighttime activities. Yer spellin' disaster upon us Miss,' Gibbs whispered. He wanted to like her, hell he was even starting to like her a little, but still he couldn't help himself.

'Nighttime activities?' Devon implored, quirking an eyebrow, and trying very hard to force down the smile that was tugging at her lips.

'Aye! Cott'n's seen th' two o' ye at th' helm… jus'… goin' at it!' There, he had said it and now it was up to her to respond. It wasn't exactly a tactical way to approach this, but no matter now.

Gibbs was waiting for a reaction from her, a fluster or nervous blinking or even a denial of the whole situation, but to his utter shock she _smiled_. It was a genuine smile, one that made her eyes twinkle mischievously.

'T'ain't just _nighttime_ activities, Gibbs…. An' don't tell me ye actually believe those fairytales,' she grinned.

'Well... they've been told fer quite a long time ye know…'

'Gibbs, could it be tha' those noble British big-wigs tha' ye sailed wit' have told ye such nonsense?'

'Ye know, I don't recall… but ye can be sure it's true... disaster will fall upon us, we'll sink, or we could lose _Th' Pearl_ 'gain. Jack would lose 'is mind… Why is it yer after Jack anyway, Miss Duville?'

She smiled. 'If havin' a woman 'board this ship is such bad luck, then 'ow is it tha' Jack got 'is_ Pearl_ back if Ana was steerin' it inta Port Royal?'

He narrowed his eyes at her. 'How did ye know 'bout tha'?'

''E told me… same as 'e told me 'bout 'ow certain superstitious crewmates could lose their value iffen they keep up certain behaviours…' her face was motionless as she said this, but her eyes sparkled.

Gibbs was silent for a moment, and Devon took this opportunity to fill his head with a few more ideas.

'Get over it man. Women deserve a bit more credit then yer willin' ta give them ye know. We be strong, some o' us may not be too physically cap'ble, but mentally we be _so_ much stronger than ye…'

Gibbs snorted.

'Wha'? Ye need proof? Who was it tha' gave birth ta ye…?' and with that Devon smirked and turned on her heel to walk back up to the deck, satisfied that she had given him enough conflicting thoughts to consume his mind for a while. _Tha' was too much fun…_

'Miss Duville…' Gibbs managed to choke out as he saw her retreating back up the stairs.

'Aye,' she said stopping in her tracks, her curls sweeping across her eyes as she turned her head.

'Erm…. It's just… I… Thanks fer yer work on th' cannon. Looks amazin' thanks ta ye…'

Devon waved the compliment off, however she couldn't prevent her lips from curling upward just a bit. 'Don't mention it me good man. T'was good practice, an' 'sides, me 'ands were itchin' ta be put ta work 'gain…'

'Jack was righ'…' he whispered.

Devon quirked an eyebrow. 'Oh? How's tha'?'

''E said ye 'ave a way wit' guns 'n cannons. Said ye're a master gunner 'board yer home ship. 'S tha' true?'

She simply nodded, then turned to make her way back up the stairs again.

It was hard for him to admit, but he had never figured a woman could have any sense when it came to the workings of a gun. Surely Ana had her way with her flint, but she couldn't work something as big as a cannon. Of course he'd heard tales of the hellcat's remarkable aim, but now she had just fixed the one cannon they had all deemed lost forever. Had they gotten an expert to repair the barrel it would have cost them a fortune. None of them saw fit to do such a thing because, after all, it was money that could well be spent on other important repairs, or on supplies. Not only had Miss Duville just saved them a small fortune, but she had done it single-handedly _and_ she had done it well. That was what shocked Gibbs the most. She did it when there was nothing in it for her, well, nothing to lose by not doing the job at any rate.

Gibbs stroked his chin as he contemplated this. Why had she done it? He figured that there must have been some sort of ulterior motive. Was she trying to get on Jack's good side? He shook his head. No, she already _was_ on Jack's good side… Or at least the side he liked to keep masked during the daytime that was. Damn Jack and his weakness for women.

He sighed and looked out the port hole. He could see the coastline of Nonsuch Island looming in the distance. He was happy that they would soon be rid of the illustrious Devon Duville. Nonsuch Island was mere hours away, and when they found her home ship she would merrily sail off into the oblivion, and then Jack's mind would be focused on treasure again. He smiled to himself… well, until he met the next specimen that was….

* * *

'Weigh anchor 'n skim th' sails! Make ready a longboat. Miss Duville an' I are ta go ashore!' Jack barked to his crew as the shoreline of Nonsuch Island drew nearer and nearer.

As Devon and Jack stepped to the rail to board the longboat, Bullet followed Devon so closely that it seemed to be stuck like glue to Devon's feet. Jack looked down at the odd little dog and as it looked up to him, its dark brown bulging eyes seemingly pleading with Jack. Jack sighed in resignation. 'Miss Duville, her dog an' I are ta go ashore…' The dog wagged its whole backside as it butted its head on Jack's boot.

'Thanks fer lettin' me take Bullet wit' me, Sparrow,' Devon said as she smiled to him, petting her dog behind its pointy ears.

'Like there was a choice in th' matter…' he groaned.

As could be expected, Bullet was the first one to board the long boat. It jumped in soon as it found a chance and installed itself at the prow of the dinghy. Once they were all seated in the dinghy and it was lowered to the water, Devon immediately snatched the oars in her hands and began to row towards shore. Jack had tried taking them from her and moving her to the other side of the boat, but she just gave him a glare that made him sit down again. As she moved her arms in a fluid motion, sending the dinghy on its way to the shore, her dark blue eyes scanned the shoreline and harbour for her home ship. Despite the fact she knew Drake would never set anchor at this side of the island, she kept roaming the shoreline anyway. There always could be a slight chance he would changed his habit. She sighed and rowed faster when she was sure there was no sign of _The Hazard_.

'Any sign of 'em yet, tart?' Jack asked, trying to take the oars from her once more.

'Ye be th' one who be 'avin' th' best view 'ere Jack, ye tell me!'

'I can't see a ship large 'nough ta be yer _Hazard_ luv. Now lemme row.'

Devon grinned. 'Ye can be quite th' gentleman if ye choose ta be Sparrow, but I'm doin' jus' fine, don't ye agree?'

He smirked at her. 'Ye're lookin' pretty fine indeed luv, although this does go against me nature a bit, a woman shouldn't 'ave ta row when a man is present.'

Devon snorted and gave him a stern glare again. Jack cleared his throat and sat himself down again. 'Carry on then luv.'

It had been a few hours since they had pulled the dingy ashore and already they had been in a numerous taverns, but none of the occupants or the barkeeps had been able to be of use to them.

'Iffen this one's stuffed wit' drunks without information that'll be o' use ta us, I'm gonna order us a few bottles o' our own ta drink, so's tha' we can work out a plan,' Devon said while she led Jack to yet another tavern. 'Drake's not th' outgoin' type really, but some o' me crewmates must 'ave been roamin' th' taverns while they had shore leave. I'm not th' only one who seeks a lil' adventure after we dock after all…' Devon grinned to herself as memories filled her mind. As soon as the many men whose names had she had forgotten long ago drifted from her mind's eye, she turned her head a little to stare at picturesque visage that was Jack Sparrow. He had the most perfect and shapely nose that she had ever seen on a man's face. His cheekbones, that strong jaw… he was too gorgeous to resist. Sure, he could annoy her tremendously and make her blood boil with anger during a great deal of the time they spent together, but as of late, she found herself seeking his companionship more often. There was a strange connection they had. There was the sex of course, which was a big thing that linked them together, but it was more than _just_ the sex now. He challenged her on many levels. He could match her in skill and intellect. The semi-drunken state he constantly displayed was more of a façade than anything else, she had learned. He could throw you off by acting that way, thus making you underestimate the devilish man beneath the drunken demeanour. Smart, very smart. Devon had never liked the idea of being underestimated. She thrived on being the intimidator, rather then the intimidated one, but Jack's strategy surely held potential. Not for her naturally, but it seemed to be working wonders for him. Even she had made the mistake of underestimating him at first, but he had sure proved her wrong, now hadn't he?

She smiled and looked beside her again. Bullet had chosen to follow in Jack's wake rather then hers and Jack seemed not to be that bothered with the fact that the frenchie kept so close to his heel. Jack had accepted Bullet, as the bulldog had accepted the Captain. And Devon? She had come to really like being around this Captain. There was no predicting how the next day would turn out and she found that she enjoyed that. There hadn't been a moment of dullness yet, no boredom to make her long for another man's arms, another man's taste… No, she was content with what was sashaying beside her at the moment.

* * *

Devon tugged at Jack's sleeve, they were about to pass a tavern that she wanted to take him into. It was called the "Do Come" inn. Devon had always found the name of this tavern to be rather appropriate. The name had become famous with all of the sailing – and perhaps also the non-sailing – male population. Everyone liked to come in, and most of them actually came in. It was one of the taverns she had visited once or twice with Drake and her crewmates in the past, but she wasn't sure it whether it would give them a proper lead. _Oh well, 's worth a shot I'd wager…_ Devon knew Jack should have anchored at the other side of the island, but yet she had failed to give him proper instructions when the shoreline had loomed in front of them. Even at this moment, she could have told him they should return to _The Pearl_ and sail around the island, but still subconsciously she chose not to.

She didn't know why exactly she failed to mention it to him, maybe she was buying time?

_/Tha' be 'xactly what yer doin' pet… yer buyin' time, 'cause ye don't wanna leave 't man./_

_So what if I am… what da ye intend ta do 'bouts it da? Hand me over ta th' authorities fer 'oldin' back vital information?_

Duncan Black's spirit chuckled at his only daughter. /_Nay Devony, but methinks tha' Jack Sparrow be appreciatin' this extra time jest as much as ye be…/_

Devon glanced at Jack who was at the counter ordering rum for the both of them.

_Maybe 'e is da'. But hush up now will ye?_

_/I know pet... three's a crowd righ'/_

Devon looked up at the ceiling and smiled. _Righ' now tis da.'_

''Ere ye are luv,' Jack slurred into her ear when he placed a mug of rum in front of her, shaking her out of her reverie.

'Barkeep says Drake's been 'ere a fortnight ago, but he didn't mention where he was goin' or if 'e was shippin' out anytime soon.'

Devon raised an eyebrow. 'Barkeep or bar wench?'

'Oh, ye wound me luv. Bar_keep_ ta be sure, th' wenches 'ere don't look like they 'ave much o' a brain between 'em, though perhaps they could 'elp me through th' night…' he said with a wink.

'Don't let me spoil yer fun then, Jack. Don' 'old back on my account. By all means... go 'head,' Devon said flatly. Then she smirked ever so subtly, 'Oh, no worries 'bouts little ol' me… I'm sure I can find a nice 'n warm place ta stay. Maybe with one o' these fine men… or with… a few o' 'em… been a long time since I've had me a good ol' ménage a trois…' she grinned inwardly as she turned her head away from him and smiled sweetly to the men who sat at the table next to them.

When they returned her smile with their own broad ones and one of them nodded his head toward the backdoor, Jack turned her head, placing a finger on her chin and making her look at him. 'Don' ye _dare_ luv.'

Devon leaned across the table and kissed him swiftly on the mouth. 'Yer cute when yer jealous Jack.' And then she drowned her rum in one swig.

'Capt'n Jack Sparrow is known fer many things luv, but jealously ain't one of 'em,' he snorted. When he saw her holding the empty glass upside down above her lips so she could catch the final amber droplet, he smirked. 'Thirsty are we tart?'

'Like a horse,' she said. 'I don't think we'll find Drake tonight though. Ye want ta return ta the ship Jack? Tha' way we can start lookin' 'gain tomorrow… I doubt we'll get a lead 'ere and nightfall will be settin' in soon, so we won't get any further tonigh'…' she concluded as she tried to look out of the dirty window.

He took her hand in his own to bring her attention back to him and drowned the rest of his rum before leaning into her. 'Do I look like a pirate anxious ta get home, darlin'?' he purred.

His dark eyes glinted in the light of the oil lamp on the wall behind her and Devon smiled. 'Ye look like an anxious pirate though.'

'So it's settled then? Ye go get us a room Duville an' I'll get us some more o' th' good stuff…'

As Devon sauntered over to the counter, an older looking man on her left caught her eye. He looked somewhat familiar, but then again, she'd seen a lot of faces in her day.

When he smiled at her, she turned her head and changed her direction.

'This seat taken mate?' she asked casually.

'Fer a woman like yerself, I'd even stand up an' give ye me own seat, darlin'.'

'Flatterin',' she smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. She turned the chair around and straddled it, her hands casually stroking the back of the chair. Bullet found some room to sit next to her right boot and immediately lay down and rested its big, almost square shaped head on its paws.

'Something tells me ye ain't sittin' down ta 'ave small talk…'

''Ow very perceptive of ye. Ye look somewhat familiar, yet I can't seem ta place ye. Care ta 'elp me out 'ere?' She was positive he wasn't one of her conquests, giving the fact he was old enough to be her father… or her grandfather even for that matter.

'Ye do too, but had I seen ye b'fore I'd remember ye, I can swear tha' on pain o' death,' there was a slow smile on the man's lips, before he scrutinized her face again.

'It's yer eyes…. I once knew a man who had such blue eyes…. Mighty fine sailor 'e was…'

Devon's eyes narrowed and it seemed her heart had just jumped up in her throat, she couldn't swallow…

_Old enough ta be me dad…_

'What…?' she finally croaked out. 'What was 'is name? Ye remember 'is name?' she inquired.

'Black. Capt'n Black o' _Th' Devotion_,' as soon as he had said the words, his eyes widened 'That be it… ye look like 'im. But ye can't be 'is… 'e 'ad a lad. Devon, tha' be 'is name I believe…'

'I'm Devon,' she said, her voice naught but a whisper.

'But 'e always spoke o' Devon like a boy… climbin' trees, sword practice, shootin'… ye can't be 'is son,' the man shook his head. 'I'd seen th' boy as 'e was eight or nine, t'was a fine lad. But ye can't be Black's son…'

'Tha' be b'cause I ain't 'is son, I'm 'is daughter.'

'B-but … a girl?' he stammered, looking her up and down.

'Las' time I've 'ad anyone check I was… an' tha' lucky bugger would confirm tha' statement I'm sure.'

The man now smiled wholeheartedly. 'Ye must be 'is girl…. Ye 'ave 'is foul mouth! Yet I could've sworn Black's child were a boy when I'd last seen it.' He looked at her again, he seemed to visualise and compare the young Devon with the woman that sat in front of him now. There was a moment of stony silence before he asked, 'What'll ye 'ave dear?'

'Rum,' she said absentmindedly, checking the bar for a sign of Sparrow.

'A lass tha' can 'old 'er rum an' 'as Black's blue eyes, 'as ta be 'is offsprin',' he smiled, ordering a wench over to bring them two mugs of rum.

Devon drank her cup dry even before it hit the table.

The old man across from her studied her again. 'Sorry fer yer loss lass…'

'Do me a favour,' Devon spoke, 'Don't call me lass.'

He held up his hands in defence. 'Terribly sorry. Won't 'appen 'gain.'

'I'm sure it won't,' she retorted giving the man a pointed look.

''Ow do ye know me father anyway?'

'I served on 'is crew fer about twenty years. Th' last twenty years…' he spoke as he covered the left side of his chest with his right hand.

'I was under th' impression tha' there were no survivors…' she whispered, more to herself then to him.

'An' I was under th' impression, ye were a boy,' he shrugged. 'None but me an' Jonesey survived though. Jonesey… I ain't seen 'im since we was washed up on th' shore o' Barbados…' he murmured, reminiscing about old times to be sure.

'Now I can't help but be curious,' the man spoke out of the blue. 'Why yer dressed as a man now 'n dressed as a boy when ye was but a babe. Ye be wearin' breeches, carryin' cutlass 'n pistol… Yer a pirate?'

'Nay, I'm a showgirl, lemme jus' show ye me feathers,' she said reaching behind her back. When she saw the man's eyes narrow, she smiled. 'Let's jus' say me ole man taught me well…'

'Wha' brings ye 'ere then? Long way from Port au Prince ye are…' he let his words trail of as he looked directly into her blue eyes.

'Tha' be one hell o' a long story. But ta cut it short, righ' now I be lookin' fer me crew 'n Capt'n. Drake. Ye 'eard o' 'im?'

'Drake? Ye sail wit' Drake?'

'Aye.'

The man mumbled something Devon couldn't quite place and just when she had tugged a serving girl at her skirts to order some more rum, Jack appeared in the corner of her eye.

'Why are ye surprised I sail wit' Drake? O' course I be assumin' tha' ye know 'im an' all now...'

The man was pulled out of his trance, or whatever thoughts were consuming him, causing him think aloud for a few brief moments. 'Talked ta 'im quite often, offered me a position 'e did, but I'm too old. Fishin' 's better fer a man me age…' again he stared into nothingness, while his lips moved.

'Again I ask ye, why ye find it surprisin' when I tell ye I work fer Drake?'

'Suppose it's cause 'e never mentioned 'avin' th' daughter o' th' late Duncan Black amongst 'is crew,' he said studying the tattoo on her arm.

'Tha' would be because th' name is Devon Duville, mate. Took me mum's name after me da' died… wanted ta do it on me own.'

The man now smiled at her, the smile honest in all its features and reaching up to his slate coloured eyes.

'Yer pa would be proud o' ye.'

'Damn righ' 'e would be, mate. She's a piece o' work I tell ye mate!'

Devon nearly jumped when she heard Jack's voice behind her. Instead she concealed her surprise, she forgot he'd been listening in to the last part of her conversation, and tilted her head to find herself staring into those familiar bewitching eyes that she adored so much. Those big, dark, gorgeous eyes that cut through her like a hot knife cut through butter. She could drown in them, wanted to be trapped inside the depths of them forever.

'Jack…' she spoke breathlessly.

'Devon,' he said nodding.

She smiled and gestured to the man across from her. 'Jack, this be…..'

'Salem,' the man simply stated.

'Salem, this be Jack Sparrow.'

Jack coughed loudly and Devon grinned, 'Capt'n Jack Sparrow if ye please o' course.'

* * *

The room was small and dressed very modestly. The bed was small but that didn't bother Devon one bit. She couldn't even have been bothered if had there been no bed at all. She put her hat on the small dresser next to the window. From said window she had quite a nice view of a brick wall, but that also didn't bother her. She unbuttoned her vest and let it slide off her shoulders and onto the floor. Bullet immediately curled up on it, sighing loudly before it shifted into a more comfortable position. Devon started to take off her blouse and smiled lovingly at her dog. She loved that dog so much, so much that it almost felt like the hairy fellow was a part of her. Her curls caressed her back as she leaned down to pet it and the sensation on her back and shoulders made her shiver. She sighed when she looked in the mirror and saw the scar on her neck. _Ye'll not be forgott'n Capt'n regardless o' th' course o' our lives... ye live on me skin. Just like me da…. _she mused, letting her fingers trace the rugged lines of the scar tissue. Skin… She wanted something on her skin to remind her of Jack other than the scar. If she returned to Singapore and visited Lee maybe she'd do it herself. Perhaps she could get it on the back of her wrist… She'd have to think of a design she could do upside down and with one hand though… a symbol that represented him without raising too much suspicion. She needed a symbol for him and for the feelings that she just couldn't express. He didn't have to know, but she wanted him to be a part of her. All her tattoos were a part of her. They represented who she was and what she stood for, and she wanted a symbol for him. As she contemplated a fitting design for him, a thought struck her like a lightning bolt.

_I don't want ta let go o' him now do I? _When she didn't hear a voice in her mind answering her query she remembered her father's saying, "Silence is golden," and smiled. _What? No smartass remarks da'?_

Still she heard nothing but some muted noises that came from downstairs.

Suddenly two arms wrapped around her from behind, breaking her from her reverie. 'Brought us two bottles darlin' but I didn't think ye'd start without me…' he said tracing her collarbone with his slender ringed finger. Devon took his hand and placed Jack's finger on her lips, then opened her mouth and licked his finger slowly. Jack moaned and tossed the bottles onto the bed.

* * *

A few hours later Devon lay on her back on the bed upside down, with her feet resting on the pillows and her hands folded behind her head. Her clothes were wherever Jack had tossed them right after he had entered their room a few hours ago. She stroked a damp curl away from her brow and continued to stare at the ceiling. When Jack stroked her sides, she vaguely became aware of the dull pain she still felt occasionally in that area, but smiled despite it. Stitch had told her to be careful not to move too much and to watch herself. _Gotta learn ta control meself I s'pose... _But when it came to the cause of the pain she knew she would never be able to hold back. Not with him. And if that meant being sore and in pain for a while longer, then so be it. Almost dying had given Devon a brand new zest for life. She was alive and she was going to enjoy each day like it could be her last.

'I could stay like this f'rever ye know?' she slurred while turning her head and staring into Jack's eyes for a moment. Then she turned her head away and stared at the wooden ceiling. 'Jus' 'ere in bed, with ye... no fights wit' th' Navy, no treasures, no raids... jus'... this,' she spread her arms out above her head to emphasise her statement.

'No ye couldn't luv. Ye'd miss th' adventures lurkin' 'round ev'ry corner, th' danger an' th' adrenaline rush tha' comes 'long wit' it all... ye're not th' indoor type 'n neither am I... though I mus' say I really do enjoy th' indoor time we spend t'gether...' he slurred back while he gently stroked his fingers along her torso. His rings glittered in the lamplight as he drew patterns on her chest with his fingertips from the veil of sweat that covered her body. There was an awkward bump on the left side of her ribcage. He had felt it before, but now that she was lying so flat on her back, it was very visible too.

'Does tha' still 'urt luv?' he asked while he looked at the strange angle her ribcage was in.

'Wha'?'

'When I touch ye there?' he asked while he stared at the visible bump sticking out from under her left breast.

'Not as much as it 'urt b'fore. But no worries Jack, ye didn't break me. I ain't a china doll...'

'Methinks ye've broken 'em, though... I knew ye should've kept 'em wrapped longer, now they've grown t'gether wrong,' Jack muttered while he touched the hard bump again.

'Mmmmmm…' she yawned while she stretched herself. 'Could be... but then 'gain... ye were th' one unwrappin' me from said bindin's in th' first place...'

Jack bit his lip. It was true. He had wanted to see her naked, completely naked that time after they had sorted out their feelings, so he had taken off the wrappings around her chest. When he thought of that, it seemed almost like a century ago, when in reality it had only been a good week or so. It was the closeness they had shared since her unfortunate accident aboard _The Pearl_ that he grown so fond of, it seemed to be so solid after such a short time. A strange connection had grown between them and Jack found himself contemplating how it was she had such a hold on him again.

Devon, in the meantime, had managed to get herself into an upright position and let her feet dangle over the edge of the bed. She reached for her blouse which had landed on top of the poor excuse for an armchair next to the bed, but before she could get up and take it, Jack grabbed her arm... pulling her back to him ever so gently.

'Let's jus' stay 'ere fer a bit more…' he whispered.

Devon turned and kissed the tip of his nose, a small and seemingly insignificant peck, but Devon knew it meant more. It meant closeness in a way she had always avoided. When her lips moved away Jack lay back on the bed and watched her get up.

Jack watched her every move. Her tan limbs moving so gracefully in the flickering of the lamplight, all those little pieces of art adorning her skin... then she whipped around to find her breeches, her curls swinging about her head, as she reached for her pants.

As she did so, a sudden wave of nausea came over her, and she could barely reach the water basin in time. She heaved uncontrollably for a few moments and then her stomach settled.

'Are ye all right, Duville?' Jack asked, as he rushed to her, rubbing her shoulders gently.

Devon moved her hair out of her face and shrugged, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, 'Aye… I think it's over now…'

'Hangover?'

'Pro'bly, but I didn't 'ave tha' much ta drink, now did I?'

Jack shrugged. 'I don't think so... maybe it went down th' wrong way or ye got up too soon,' he offered, still looking at her with concern written all over his face.

'Tha's pro'bly it,' she said as she cleaned her mouth with the towel next to the basin.

As they both gathered their clothes to get dressed, Jack mused some more. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in he small stained mirror that was placed above the basin and just stared at it for a few moments. He stroked his moustache and beard. Devon had partially re-braided and re-beaded his beard last night, mainly because she got annoyed with the fact that the roots were growing in, yet he left his braided beard as it was. Her long fingers had touched his chin, had gently combed the hair of his trademark and had skilfully put his trinkets and beads back in their place. They hadn't spoken at first. There had been no need for words. It was without words that they had understood each other last night.

Devon was the only woman, besides his mother thus far, that he had let touch his hair. Almost every fine woman he met was granted access of his entire body, but the hair, that was where he drew the line. No one besides himself could touch the locks. Yet he had given Devon permission in a heartbeat. Why was that? And in return, he had turned a few of her locks into plaits. As much as he loved her curls, he thought she needed a few braids of her own again also. He had even offered her one of his shells, but she hadn't let him put it in. He didn't know why, but it had seemed she didn't like it all that much. Well, she did say she liked the shell, but didn't want it in her hair. Strange, he thought, why someone – a woman even – didn't want to have a pretty shell in her hair. And it really was pretty. It wasn't like it was chipped or something. He had found it on the beach in Barbados and it had lured him to it. The way it shined in so many colours was magnificent. But she didn't want it. He looked at her hands as they moved to put on the last of her clothing. She didn't wear any rings either. Now that he thought about it, he found that rather odd. He remembered Elisabeth having rings, earrings and necklaces in many shapes and forms and even the wenches and strumpets bore jewellery of some kind. Devon had that one gem in her tooth, but nothing beyond that.

'Why is it ye don' wear no jewellery, tart?' He finally broke out of his musings to ask her the very question he'd be wondering about.

Devon laughed. 'Why, is that a necessity in yer opinion?'

'We're pirates, luv. We're supposed ta be fond o' gold 'n trinkets.'

'We're supposed ta steal gold 'n trinkets darlin', not try an' wear as much as we can on our limbs or in our hair,' she snorted.

'Ye wound me luv. But they're pretty are they not?' he demanded, his lips pursed into an utterly adorable pout, not that Devon would ever tell him that.

'Pretty? I suppose they are, but I 'ave no need fer 'em.'

'Why is tha', luv? I'm sure yer da' would 'ave thought ye ta appreciate a good treasure, even if it be it a small one.'

Devon smiled at him. 'Me da' taught me not all treasure be silver 'n gold Jack. Not all treasure be shiny an' sparkly…'

Jack looked at her, amazed. 'Ye know I once told th' whelp tha' very same thing…'

'Well maybe ye understand what me father's taught me, then eh?'

Jack pondered that for a moment and then nodded, thinking that the late Duncan Black and he would have enjoyed spending time together.

'Yer shell's really nice Jack, but ye keep it, don' give it away ta someone who's no use fer it.' She said. _If only ye could give me th' treasure tha' I really want…_

'Devon?'

She looked up to him, amazed at all of the emotion and meaning that he seemed to put into those two syllables. The way he had let her first name roll off his tongue and the astonished look that he had in his eyes sent chills down her spine.

'Aye?'

'Give me yer knife.'

Devon narrowed her eyes, not knowing what he meant by that, or why he would just break that momentary bubble of bliss by asking for a piece of weaponry.

'Devon?' he asked again, bowing this time, to be able to look deeper into her eyes.

'Wha-.. I'm sorry, what do ye need me knife fer?' she stammered, taking out her dagger from her belt. She held on to the blade but didn't give it to him yet, she just held it out trying to make sense of the man that managed to keep confusing her constantly.

'Darlin' let go o' th' blade now, will ye please? I want ye to 'ave somethin'…'

She got her sense back a few seconds after his sentence had trailed off. 'I told ye I don' want yer shell, Jack. Keep it.'

Jack gently took the dagger from her and reached up to feel his locks. Then he cut one of his dreads of a few inches away from his scalp and held it in his left hand. He looked deep into her mystical blue eyes and handed her blade back to her.

'Wha' did ye do tha' fer?' she whispered.

'I know our ways'll part soon luv, an' I wan' ye ta remember me. Not only by th' scar, but I want ye ta remember what we've 'ad 'ere. Tonigh', th' past few days an' right now…' Then he took her wrist and wrapped his lock of hair around it, tying it into a knot on the back of her wrist. He took the glass away from the lamplight and held her hand above the flame. The hair caught flame instantly, almost melding the hair together where the knot had been tied, securing it. The smell of burning hair soon filled the small room and was starting to become nearly unbearable. Then he put the flames out with his hand, the now extinguished flame searing both his flesh and hers in the process. 'Do me an honour tart, take this when ye don't want th' shell an' wear this as ye wouldn't wear a gold bracelet. Cherish it. Don' ferget 'bouts me.'

He sounded as honest as a pirate could sound in Devon's opinion and his eyes were so dark and glazed over that she couldn't help but nod in response. The statement was so simple, childlike even, but it meant so much to Devon.

Little did she know that this seemingly small gesture from Jack, meant progress. Jack had given her a piece of him. A piece of something he was so proud of. A piece of the Jack Sparrow he had created from an ordinary boy with a dream. He had become what he had always desired, he had lived his dream. The impossible dream for some perhaps, but he wanted her to be a part of it. If not in body, then at least in spirit. He didn't know in what way, or how, or when, or where she would become a part of him… hell, he didn't even know if she wanted to. But he hadn't thought twice about letting her near his hair, so it only seemed natural to give her a lock of his tresses.

'We'll both 'ave blisters now, ye know that ye silly git?' she laughed, touching the "bracelet" Jack had just given her.

'We both 'ave blisters on our souls already, tart. A few on our skin won't matter much will they?'

Devon smiled genuinely, her smile reaching up to her eyes, making them sparkle. She could have made a smart witty retort to that, but she didn't. She settled on kissing the tip of his nose instead.

When Jack leaned in to make his lips touch hers instead of his nose, there was a sudden persistent knock on the door. For a moment his pouted lips lingered in the air, but then the both of them instantly drew their swords. The moment was broken and was replaced by a sharp alertness towards the door….

TBC

A/N Reviewers shall be reviewed in the next chapter, so I hope you all will give me a hell of a job before I post the next chapter… someday ;-) For now, I leave you with a great big hug and all of you get a paw from my own little French Bulldog, Muppet!


	30. Searching for a ship she calls home

_Disclaimer; I still don't own anything I borrowed, sadly enough (sigh)_

**E/n: It sucks having so much you need to do when all you really want to is relax…. or edit a story for a friend. ;-) Anyway, I won't trouble you with my woes, only that I'm sorry this took so long and that you'll have to be patient with us. There's only so much time that I have, so forgive me this minor infraction. We won't give up on this story … it just takes time to create it when we post such long chapters. Enjoy and leave a little love for us. xoxo Linnie**

**A note from the DuTchess; Thank all you wonderful readers, reviewers and lurkers for sticking with us. I am happy to inform you that I'm doing a lot better than the last time we "talked" the new medication kicked in and I am currently pain free and can do almost everything I could before my joints started striking. So the next chapter is currently in the works and will be presented to you as soon as possible (still that could mean a few months wait, unfortunately since Linthilde and I are busy as hell with normal life and all its interferences). Stick with us, please, because we stick with you! Enjoy the next installment, and let us know what you think! Linnie's currently in lovely Italy visiting a friend, so me posting this chapter is a nice farewell gift to her. Linnie, you're a true friend, an ally and such an inspiration! Thanks luv! And thanks for putting up with me!**

**Chapter 30**

_**Searching for the ship she calls home**_

_'It is hard to track the path the ship follows in the ocean.'_

_Danish Proverb_

'Open up! I need ta speak wit' ye at once!' a voice called from the other side of the door.

'Who goes there?' Devon demanded. Jack shot her an angry glare and gestured her to keep her mouth shut. Though, just like most of his attempts to control her to some degree, his attempts were futile… Devon had a will of her own. And a mighty strong one at that.

'Who goes there?' she demanded again, her voice sharper and more dangerous this time around. She took a step forward, completely ignoring the warnings that she got from Jack. She inhaled deeply as her eyes narrowed. Her hand reached out to the door latch in a slow, yet determined motion. Her pulse raced and she could hear her blood rush in her ears. It sounded almost like a muffled waterfall, but one in rhythm with her pounding heartbeat.

When no answer came with her second call, Devon moved to open the door, her sword drawn. Jack moved instantly and tried to stop her. But it was Devon's curiosity that got the better of her, so she pushed him aside and lifted the latch. The door opened and she pressed the tip of her blade near the jugular of the neck that belonged to whoever dared knock on her door.

Though all they found was the man that they had talked to last night.

'Ah, tis only ye. But a word of warnin', as it were … next time someone asks ye who ye are, I suggest ye bloody answer it, mate, 'cause I nearly ran ye through…' Devon grumbled as she sheathed her sword again. Jack, however, did not lower his blade just yet and looked skeptically to the older man in the doorframe.

The man stood, gasping for air after that little encounter, staring wide-eyed at the two fellow pirates that could have just killed him.

'A-a-apologies, Miss Black,' the man whispered. Devon gave him a stern glare and he corrected himself best he could. 'Me apologies again... Miss Duville.'

'Now why is it yer actin' like all hell broke loose, an' tha' th' only way ta escape Lucifer is by drummin' th' wood off this bloody door?'

'I-I…..' he coughed to clear out his throat, especially since it felt as though his heart was still lodged up in that region after he was held at sword-point. 'I need ta talk ta ye in private…' he whispered, eying Jack.

Devon glanced at Jack, but he still hadn't moved a muscle.

'Alone, iffen ye please…' the man urged again. He looked down at the sword tip that still remained pointed at him and gulped.

'Sparrow, lower yer sword,' Devon reprimanded, pushing Jack's sword out of the man's face and giving him a stern glare. He put on a mask of pseudo-innocence and pouted. Though when he saw that she wasn't amused in the slightest, he put his sword away with a huff. Devon shifted her eyes to the older man in front of her once again.

'Alone…' the man repeated. Jack moved closer to Devon, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Devon looked to the side, and softly kissed his hair dusted cheek. 'Take a walk, Jack.'

'Hell no, I ain't goin' nowhere luv…'

'Sparrow, leave.' She commanded, using the tone her father had always used as a Captain. Her voice was sharp and she articulated every word with a strong determination. When he moved his head to the side to glare at her for the tone of voice she just used with him, she reached up to his ears, got hold of his left ear lobe and pulled it none too gently. Jack was stunned. It took him a few moments to recover before he reached for her arm to pull it away. 'Ye friggin' witch! Yer pullin' me bloody ear! Tha' bloody well hurts woman!'

'That does seem ta be the case. 'Ow very perceptive o' ye, Jack…' she said, leading him out into the hallway and guiding him along by his ear.

'Don' be such a baby _Capt'n Jack Sparrow_. Ye stay 'ere an' wait fer me. I'll 'ear 'im out an' then we'll be on our merry way, savvy?'

Jack pulled a face at her, with sheer anger radiating from his eyes. 'Who do ye think ye are ta tell **me**, **Captain**Jack bloody Sparrow, what ta do!'

Devon ignored the rage in his voice, and instead she pulled him down to her and gave him an exhilarating kiss. A kiss that made him forget and remember what she had just done to him, at the same time. The sweetness of her mouth and the softness of her lips caressed not only _his_ lips, but his entire being. When her lips parted from his all he could do was lean against the wall and stare at her.

'Sparrow? Ye all right?' she asked.

'Hmm hmm…' he replied evasively, nodding his head. He waved his fingers toward the door again as casually as he could.

'Go…' and again he gestured to the door, 'Go talk ta grandpa an' then get back 'ere so's we can finish what ye've jus' started hmm?'

Devon smiled viciously. 'I could eat ye alive if ye weren't so scrawny, Sparrow,' and with that she winked and strode back into the room.

'I **should** 'ave her head fer this' he mused as he heard the door shut behind her.

* * *

_God, he's gonna hold tha' against me at some point… I disrespected 'im in the presence 'o another man… _

'So, we be alone, now spill it. What be so damn important tha' ye made me usher Sparrow out o' th' bloody room?' her voice dropped an octave as she spoke. She knew it had to be important and she wanted him to tell her. 'I respect 'im as a Captain and a man, so ye best 'ave somethin' heavy on yer chest mate!'

He needed to tell her now.

'Spill it already!'

'I've come ta let ye know Drake's currently stockin' 'is ship wit' supplies, I think 'e be sailin' off within a fortnight, perhaps sooner.'

'Salem… tha' be yer name, correct?'

'Aye, Miss Black.'

'Duville,' she corrected again. 'Where did ye hear this?'

'I was downtown jus' now… wanted ta go fishin', so I was buyin' me some bate an' other 'sentials, when I ran inta Dacapo…. Tha' be his name, aye?'

A jolt ran through Devon's body. 'DaCosta,' she encouraged. She couldn't help but smile when she pronounced the name of her apprentice. It seemed ages since she had teased him last.

'Did ye speak wit' 'im?'

'Unfortunately, no', he said. 'I saw 'im going inta th' powder store on th' crossin'…'

Devon cut him off instantly as she snatched what little possessions she had off the small dresser. 'Th' one on th' crossin' … I know tha' place! '_Th' Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels?_'

'Aye, tha' be th' one. I can never remember th' name. Wha' kind o' idiot names his store tha' anyways? Th' sign 'lone musta cost him a fortune… all them words. An' it doesn't roll off th' tongue tha' easy, but what th' hell? But ye won't find yer man there now I'm 'fraid, I came as fast as me ole legs could carry me, but methinks 'e be long gone by now…' Salem said, but Devon had already called Bullet over and rushed out the door, grabbing Jack by his sash as she was striding past him.

* * *

Jack could barely keep up with her as she walked to the crossing. Walking with big steps, he might add. Bullet trotted behind the pair, its short legs were having even more trouble with keeping up with Devon then Jack's were. 

'Where we goin'?' he shouted to her back.

Devon didn't answer, she just kept moving.

'Tart? Where we goin'?' he shouted again, louder this time.

As Devon took a sharp turn her mouth was still set in a straight line. She hoped DaCosta would still be there… though if she remembered correctly her apprentice _did_ take quite a while to take an inventory of the stash aboard the ship, and she slowly started to smile. With just a bit of luck, he'd be there. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but somehow she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach.

'Devon, hold up there will ye?' Jack shouted breathlessly. But Devon didn't stop or hold her pace. Not when she could almost make out the soggy smell of her home ship. As Devon closed her eyes she found herself in the armory of _The Hazard_, her braids tucked behind her ears as she instructed DaCosta how to take apart a cannon. The smell of gunpowder and sweat filled her nostrils and she could discern the scent of _The Hazard's_ wood. DaCosta fidgeted with the tools she had given him and made a fit when she had told him to use them more lovingly. A smile tugged at her lips at the memory but when she opened her eyes, she was on the crossing again. Carriages passed by, people engaged in conversation crossed her left and right but when she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes met his. A jolt went through her at the intensity of his look then he broke the stare and looked away. She followed his gaze and found that he was worried about Bullet, who was struggling to keep up with the pirates pace.

'Ere it is! An' ye could put a little speed into it ol' man, there be snails on th' face o' this earth tha' can move faster than ye… an' they prob'ly be less slimy might I add…' she sneered. Jack glared at her. Regardless of how he felt about her, this was a side of the witch that he'd never grow fond of. He took several long paces and strode over to her, his head held high.

As he reached her, he pointed a finger in her face and spat, 'Don' sass me tart!'

'Oh shut it. Ye love me big mouth an' what I can do with it, now follow me.'

Before he could mouth some witty retort she had already pulled him inside of the small store. She could smack herself upside the head for not thinking of this sooner. Devon had visited this particular store several times when she needed to refill her stash aboard. The owner was quite a character, but she had always found that rather amusing.

* * *

As soon as they stepped inside the scent of gunpowder and metal filled their nostrils and Devon took a deep breath. The smell of gunpowder made her feel at ease. It always had. Gunpowder for her meant either action or home. In this case, it meant both action and a way to get home. 

'Miss Duville!' Sid Haydon, the owner of the '_Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels,' _exclaimed. He came over to greet her, but then his gaze immediately fell on Jack who stood slightly behind Devon.

'Who have you brought here? Another apprentice? My… he's even better looking then Drake himself! Where _do_ you find these men, Duville?' the man almost squealed as he looked Jack up and down.

'Sid Haydon, this be Capt'n Jack Sparrow of the _Black Pearl_. He has … graciously brought me here to find Drake.'

'Jack, this be Sid Haydon.'

Jack looked over the man he was just introduced to. He was skinny, very skinny and moved very elegantly, but in a very disturbing way.

Jack grabbed Devon's arm as the man came closer. He tried moving away from the other man, his eyes pleading with Devon. But the witch just smiled sweetly back at him. 'Tell me Duville… where did you find this one? Oh, how rugged and dirty he is, and the clothes… His eyes…. Oh my, he has the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen!' Haydon squealed in an almost feminine way as he touched Jack's arms and let his hands slide down them.

Jack looked to the side, horror written evidently on his face as he gritted out to Devon between his teeth very quietly, 'Keep 'im away from me!'

Devon hissed back, 'Jus' go wit' it, this is our lead!'

Just as Jack wanted to tell her she could shove this so called lead up her firm and delicious arse, she wrapped her free arm around the man's shoulders and tried effortlessly to free her other arm from Jack's grip.

'E ain't one o' yer back passage buddies, Sid. At least, not tha' I know of … but judgin' by th' slightly panicked look in 'is eyes, I don't believe 'e is, do ye?' Devon grinned. She was thoroughly enjoying the look on Jack's face right now. If she ever had doubts about his sexual preferences because of his flamboyant behavior and the way he dressed… The look displayed on his face now made her absolutely sure he actually was a ladies man… and _only_ a ladies man.

'You mean he ain't queer? But I mean just look at how he looks. I have been known for converting some of them straight ones you know…' the man spoke seductively as he pressed his scrawny chest up against Jack's giving him a lush smile. Jack winced and looked away.

Jack tried to step backwards to avoid the contact, but there was a counter inconveniently blocking his escape route.

When Jack's grip on Devon's arm intensified, and became nearly claw-like, she decided to save poor Jack from the owner.

'Haydon, darlin', we be 'ere 'cause scuttlebutt goes tha' Drake's sent DaCosta 'ere ta run some errands, tha' be true?'

'Why yes, I figured you yourself had sent him, until he asked if I had seen you. Looks better every time I see the lad… strong arms… nice bum too…' Devon could see Jack wince from the corner of her eyes.

'Yes…. He _is_ quite a looker…' Devon agreed. 'Really miss th' bloke….'

At this point Jack's eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at her. Here she was mentioning this Da something something's name and was referring to him as a looker and was saying that she really missed him. Did she have feelings for this Da-whatever person? Did she share sheets with him aboard _The Hazard_? All kinds of questions erupted in his mind about this… relationship… that Devon had with this man. And he decided there and then he didn't like this Da-fucker one bit.

'Somethin' wrong Jack?' Devon asked, looking a little more than confused at Jack's bewildered expression.

'Who be this Da-whoever yer talkin' bouts?'

Devon smiled inwardly. _Jack be jealous?_ Good God, he is!

'My apprentice, Sparrow. Taught him _everythin'_ I know.' Devon said the word 'everything' as hoarse as she could and tried to look smitten as she could.

She was given this opportunity to mess with Jack's head and she did not plan to turn it down.

Jack grumbled and strutted into the far corner of the store.

'What's wrong with your partner, Duville?' Sid enquired?

'I dunno, mayhaps 'e be needin' a little pick me up…' she whispered knowing full well a man like Sid Haydon would grab this opportunity with both his wrinkled hands. And that he did…

'OH! No worries, I've got just the thing for that!' he said enthusiastically.

'Oi! Did DaCosta leave a list behind?' Devon shouted at the man who was already next to Sparrow with a little flask in his hands.

'Oh yes, it's on the counter, you know where to look…'

And Devon knew exactly where to look. There was a small stack of papers on the desk and Devon had soon found one with the initials I.D. on it. What was he planning? There was an order for more powder and cannonballs than she had ever written down herself. DaCosta was illiterate, so he couldn't have known what was on this note, and knowing Drake he hadn't informed the gunner of what was on it either.

'Eh… Siddy did DaCosta give ye another note besides this one?'

Haydon was still busy flirting and trying to make Jack drink from his canister, while Jack, on the other had, was busy fighting the old man off while his eyes were shooting daggers at Devon.

'Sid Haydon! Stop abusin' th' poor Capt'n an' answer me!'

'Wh-what?' Haydon mumbled as looked up and pulled his face slightly away from Jack's.

'Did DaCosta give ye any other information besides this note?'

'No, he handed me the note, inspected the powder and inquired if I had seen you recently.'

'Tha' be all?'

'Aye…'

'WILL YE GET OFF O' ME NOW YE BLEEDIN' OLD GIT!' She heard Jack's voice roar from behind her.

When she turned her head, she could see old Haydon making a spectacular effort to rid Jack of his jacket.

She shook her head as she watched the scene. Siddy did have a mighty fine taste in men, she had to give the old backside bouncer that.

'I MEAN IT YE GODDAMN QUEER PIG, GET YER PAWS OFFA ME! OR I SWEAR ON PAIN O' DEATH YE _WON'T_ LIVE TA SEE ANOTHER SUNRISE!'

Devon sighed, putting the papers down and waltzing over to the men. 'Sid, let Sparrow go now, sweetie. Ye might scar 'im fer life. I'll be needin' him later on, so jus' let 'im go righ'?' She said, as she tried to pry Jack's vest from Sid's bony and eager fingers.

'But… but he's such a pretty one,' Sid pouted.

'I know, sweetie I know. Very pretty… But the only backside 'e'll be bouncin' will be mine, savvy?'

'That's right!' Jack exclaimed cherishing his new found freedom.

Devon's head snapped over to the side, glancing at Jack, 'Suddenly faithful, are we darlin'?' she enquired.

Jack realized he had been cornered again, not by a queer old man, who wanted him to either kiss him or make him bend over, but this time by his wicked side-kick who had just kind of made him admit he wanted her. And _only_ her. Well, he did want her, but he couldn't quite picture him wanting just her. His mind was racing to find an answer that he could dish out, but when he turned back to her, she was already back at the counter, going through the other papers once more.

He moved next to her, 'I ne'er said I was ta be faithful.'

Devon smiled. It wasn't a normal sweet smile, but a carnivorous one, a mixture between mirth and madness splayed on her face, 'I ne'er asked ye to.'

'But ye want me to.'

'Well no, tha' would make me a hypocrite now wouldn't it?'

Jack was dumbfounded. 'A hypocrite, how?'

'Askin' faithfulness from ye, while I have no intention o' e'er remainin' faithful ta jus' one man, regardless o' his name or standin'….' It hurt her to say this, but she knew it was for the better. Their ways would soon part as soon she reunited with her Captain and crew, and she knew she would pick up on her usual way of life to try and rid the thoughts of his arms as they held her, his lips as they kissed her, and his hands as they touched her from her mind. She knew Jack he would do the same, so there was really no need to lie or make things seem more flowery just for show.

Jack swallowed. 'Ah I see, so there's no need fer me ta be puttin' a chastity belt on ye now is there?'

'Not when I can pick any lock there isn't,' she laughed.

He pushed her hair away from her neck and gently kissed the scar he had given her... oh so long ago. 'Yer a remarkable woman ye know tha', tart?' he whispered hoarsely into her ear. The airstreams brushed past her cheeks leaving them glowing and rosy.

'An' yer an exceptional man, Sparrow,' she whispered back, softly kissing him on the lips. His hands moved to the back of her neck and he pulled her closer. The kiss deepened and both pirates soon forgot why they were even there.

In the back of the store Sid was snorting at the scene. Why was it that she could wrap any man around her finger? She wasn't even that beautiful, plus she was bigger than a woman should be…. He knew Devon called it 'big boned' but he knew that wasn't the case. She had a bit more flesh on her than was good for her. But still, men seemed to adore her regardless. He snorted again as he saw Jack's hand slide toward Devon's buttocks.

'Fer th' love o' God... why her?' Sid muttered as he put all the scattered notes and papers back into a neat stack.

Jack broke the kiss a short while after that. Relishing her taste in his mouth, 'Ye've ruined me fer other woman, ye vixen,' he spoke hoarsely in her ear.

'One can only hope,' she retorted. 'But I do believe I've only warmed ye up fer them.'

'Am I such a bad liar luv?' he said kissing her briefly once again.

'Nay yer not, ye be a very good one actually, I almost believed ye…' she said, swallowing down her emotions.

She made a sharp turn and wiggled herself out of Jack's embrace. As she did, the nausea came back and she rushed to a corner in the store and started to heave again. This time, she couldn't control it. She felt sick to her stomach and it was almost as if her body had a mind of its own. Jack rushed to aid her and rubbed her back as Devon heaved.

'By the blazes, what ails ye lass?' he mumbled more to himself then to Devon. In a heartbeat Sid was beside them also. 'She's gone and started drinking that green stuff again? Drake always hated when she did that… makes her even more rebellious then she already is. If it goes down right that is… if it doesn't she ends up sick as a dog. Not that that ever stopped her before… but from what I've heard she can be quite the handful.'

Jack looked round the room, searching for Bullet, but when he looked down, it was right beside Devon, pressing its head against her boot.

'W-water please,' Devon said, her voice catching.

Jack glared at the man next to him, who had yet again managed to press his body close to Jack's.

'Oh… ye want me to fetch it, is that it?'

'Very perceptive o' ye…' Jack retorted. 'Ye all righ' again, tart? What be ailin' ye?'

Devon regained her composure once more, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 'In all honesty I don't have a clue, but let's get back ta business shall we?' she walked back to the counter and gave Jack the note.

Sid returned with a glass of water and Devon drank it dry almost instantly.

'Better?' Sid asked as he took the glass back from her.

'Aye… jus' like new,' she said, looking at Jack as he read the note.

'This is just an order, luv. Delivery date four months from now. No significant information on it, not even a delivery place.'

She smiled, even though her stomach was still twisting and churning a little. 'Ye mean ye sign yer orders an' leave a delivery place?'

Jack looked almost hurt. 'Nay, o' course not.'

'Well... Drake doesn't either, but if DaCosta was 'ere askin' fer me, there must be a message 'ere I'm fairly certain o' tha'…'

Jack again winced again when he hear her say DaCosta's name.

'Tha' apprentice o' yers... what 'e be like?' he asked suddenly.

Devon glanced up from the note, 'Why?' The question came out sharper then she had intended, but she was so busy concentrating on the note, that she got slightly annoyed at Jack's sudden interest in her crewmates.

He waved his hands casually, 'Oh ye know. Just wond'rin…'

'Well… he be thick-headed an' fool-hearted at some times, but a good man in all. Scares easily though…' she said, her mouth curl into a sardonic grin, making Jack even more curious.

'And?'

'And what? Jack he's me apprentice, I teach him things, or at least try to,' she said, then went back to studying the piece of paper intently again.

'Like wha'?'

'Stuff!' she hissed, getting fed up with what was starting to sound like a bloody interrogation.

Jack held up his hands in mock defeat. 'Sorry I asked.'

When no answer was given he crossed his arms in front of his chest and tapped his boot on the slate floor.

'Stop that!' Devon said, trying to concentrate deeply on the note and trying to see something that maybe wasn't even there in the first place.

'What?' he asked.

'Tha' tappin'…'

He tapped his boot again. 'This tappin'?'

'Yes ye bloody bastard, tha' tappin'! Stop tha'!'

'Why?' he asked, with a teasing smile.

'Just stop it, savvy?'

He tapped his foot again, this time following the rhythm of his favorite shanty… and he even hummed to it….

Devon turned around sharply, grabbing him by the braids of his beard. 'List'n sailor, I be onta somethin' 'ere an' ye bein' a complete an' utter pain in my arse so _quit it_!'

'Ouch Devon, tha' 'urts!' he said trying to pry his braids from her strong grip.

'I intended it ta be tha' way,' she said, releasing his goatee after one final tug.

Jack instinctively inspected the hair on his chin for damage, but then turned her roughly around by her shoulder.

'Why are ye so tense, tart? Ye've studied tha' note fer a good half hour. Ye won't find anythin' more than what ye've already read a thousand times… I can promise ye tha'.'

'There has ta be more than just this order… there _has_ ta be. If he's sent DaCosta 'ere an' 'ad 'im inquire bouts me… he must 'ave figured tha' there was a slight chance, despite all odds, I'd make it 'ere somehow an' thus leave me wit' somethin' ta go on'.

And her eyes were, once again, focused on her Captain's handwriting as she turned and turned the piece of paper around between her grimy fingers.

Jack studied the note again, by glancing over her shoulder, but all he could discern was an order for gunpowder and several cannonballs, no more.

'See luv, there ain't nothin' there…'

'I won't give up that easily, Jack. He must've left me somethin' ta go on!'

Devon walked up to the fireplace and held the note in the light of the flames... nothing. At first she was disappointed, but then she remembered something. A vision of Drake in his quarters came to her mind. He was sitting behind his desk writing in his log. And there were two ink bottles on his desk. She remembered it so clearly now. One with black ink and there was one containing a clear murky fluid. The murky fluid…. '_Now what th' hell was tha' clear stuff fer?'_ she wondered.

When she held it closer to the flames, a hint of lemon scent filled her nostrils and she grinned.

'Why ye grinnin' tart? Discover somethin' after all?'

'Aye… tricks one pulls as a child still work in adult life apparently… he wrote somethin' in citrus juice see?'

Jack looked over her shoulder and read the words:

Devon,

If you are anything like what I've pegged you for all these years, you escaped that island and somehow bartered a passage to Bermuda. And if you did, you obviously found this note, knowing I'd leave something for you. My sincerest hopes are you are doing well and somehow you did manage to get hold of the dual charts and manage to hold onto them as well. You have, as you have saidyourself, your heart as a compass, so even if we are not docked at our accustomed berth, I have a feeling you will find your way back us. If not soon, I am sure we shall meet again one day. I have faith in you. The date of this note is three days prior to our departure. I hope to welcome you back to my crew soon.

Captain I. Drake

'Drake's a clever man. Never woulda guessed tha' when we were younger…' Jack muttered.

'I wonder what ye were like when ye were younger…' Devon whispered sincerely. 'Wonder if I'd be attracted ta ye then… I mean when I was still pure an' all…' her lips slowly curled in a carnivorous grin as she watched Jack twirl his moustache upwards.

Jack pressed his body close to hers, leaving barely any mentionable space between them. He could feel her breasts press up to him and he couldn't prevent himself from getting hard.

'Ye mean the illustrious Devon Duville, the daughter of the infamous Duncan Black, was once _pure_?' he purred in her ear, twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers.

Even though he had said the word _pure_ very slowly and with a hint of sarcasm in it, Devon's eyes were glued to his lips… his gorgeous kissable lips…

'Very long ago I was Jack. I was as pure as Elisabeth was b'fore her weddin' night, no blood on me hands, no blood on th' sheets… just pirate blood waiting ta boil, but I was an angel ta be sure.'

He grinned down to her, briefly kissing her lips. 'Somehow I can't picture ye tha' way, but ye are a dark angel ta me. Devious…' he kissed her again, letting his lips linger for just a moment on hers. 'Yes…. Devilish…' another kiss on her lips this time, he let the tip of his tongue slide inside of her mouth. 'Very much so… But _pure_…? Never…' he said, pressing his body even closer to her as she deepened the kiss and didn't allow him to pull away again. His hands roamed her body and were busy trying to undo her blouse when Sid walked in on them.

'Oh for heavens sake, stop that sickening display at once!' he squealed, covering his eyes with his hands.

Devon broke the kiss a few moments after. 'The old cannonball queen's righ' Sparrow, we should get goin'…'

She took the note and put it in the back of her breeches.

'Why exactly is it that ye hide every thing down there?'

She cocked an eyebrow and her eyes got that familiar glimmer he had come to adore. She grinned at him, the small diamond flashed in the light of the flames. Then she threw her arms around his neck and whispered, 'If I hide it down th' front an' ye keep lookin' this damned good, it would get wet…'

Before he could respond she turned to Sid and inquired, 'Why did Drake place an order four months in advance, Sid? DaCosta mention tha'?'

Sid Haydon scratched the few hairs that still remained atop his head. 'No he didn't. You were never one to place orders so long before they were needed, and your Captain knows I have a wide stock.'

'That's wha' bothers me…' she muttered.

Jack turned to her. 'I place orders in advance… tha' way I can split b'fore anyone knows we were even there.'

'Right, he's placed th' order in advance, 'cause he's up ta somethin'… but what?' Devon was already walking towards the door, lost in thought. So lost, in fact, that she forgot about Jack, she forgot about Bullet, all she could think of was the ship that had become her home and the Captain whom she had devoted herself to. Well, granted, she had only devoted herself to a certain extent, but she had every intention of remaining part of _The Hazard's_ crew for as long as the oceans kept calling to her.

She walked away from the store… ignoring the strange feeling in her stomach for the moment, as well as everything around her. There was something going on and she needed to find her home ship in order to put the things back together again.

After he watched Devon wander off, Jack quickly leashed Bullet and hurried after her. He had no idea where she was headed, or if she even had a plan or not. But he knew that somehow Devon would find her way back to Drake. He just hated the fact she was so eager to reunite with him. She would be out of his life soon. Too soon for his liking. Even if finding the berth of _The Hazard_ turned out to be another task of its own, Jack knew Devon would be able to do it. If it was one thing he had learned about her, it was that she had the gift of reading between the lines that most would believe didn't exist and listening to the words that were never spoken in the first place… if she could read him and his secrets so well, he somehow knew that Drake was an open book to her.

When he felt Bullet tugging at its leash, he broke from his reverie and saw Devon take a sharp turn. He rushed after her, amazed at the speed she ran with. When he finally caught up with her, he found her on the cobblestones next to a dumpster.

Catching his breath, he knelt beside her. A light veil of sweat showed on her brow.

'Now will ye tell me what's wrong with ye?' Jack whispered.

'I'm all right, Jack… everthin's fine now…' Devon said as she got back up.

'Devon? Ye really sure? Ye heaved 'gain just now did ye not?' he asked, sincere concern lacing his velvet voice.

'Aye, I did. Must be comin' down with somethin'. But let's continue shall we?'

Jack glanced at her again, not quite convinced, but when she smiled he thought nothing more of it. He failed to notice the smile did not reach her eyes. There was a flash of concern underneath those deep blue eyes of hers. Devon was worried. She had managed to avoid intercourse a few days before her period was due, as she had always done. It didn't matter that she really didn't have much need for those precautions with the damages that were done to her in the past, but still, even though Devon was a gambler and a risk taker, she was neither of those when it came to this sort of thing.

She didn't want to take chances. So despite the fact she needn't worry too much, she just couldn't settle that feeling in the pit of her stomach.

_Maybe I should 'ave a talk wit' Ana..._

Jack's voice broke her from her thoughts. 'Where we goin' now?'

'A cave not too far from 'ere… Just a few miles walk.'

He pulled her to a stop. 'A few _miles_ walk! I don't know where ye suddenly found yer land legs, but I never fully grew those. I ain't walkin' a few miles, tart. A few feet… tha' I can do… but tha's where I draw th' line.'

'Draw away than, don't let me keep ye…' and with that she strolled past him again. Bullet however, did not follow Devon. After a few moments she realised that she didn't hear the tap-tap of four little paws behind her. When she turned around she saw Bullet sitting next to Jack, who literally had not moved an inch. They were both looking at her with their heads tilted to one side.

'Are ye two mockin' me?' she shouted over.

Bullet stared at her and then looked up to Jack for confirmation. Jack looked down at the odd dog and smirked. 'It appears yer dog ain't got land legs either, tart…'

Devon grinned. Despite herself she just found him so charming at this moment. 'Suit yerselves then, but than I might just pick me up 'nother nice lookin' sailor lad an' perhaps I'll find a cute lit'le kitten ta take home with me too… I could name it Dagger… or Dirk perhaps? I mean cats do 'ave nine lives… could come in handy in this trade…'

In a heartbeat both the man and the dog were beside her again.

Devon smirked contently. 'So damn predictable ye two are.'

'We're not predictable luv, we jus' don't want ta see ye get yerself in trouble…. That's all.'

'Sure,' she smirked patting him on his cheek. 'Whate'er ye say Capt'n, whatever ye say…'

* * *

'Capt'n… he's gettin' worse!' 

Shredder rushed into Drake's quarters.

Drake dropped his quill, not caring that it was rolling across his log and then falling off his desk.

'Damn,' he cursed. 'How bad is it?'

'Fever went up. He's shakin' an' don't respond ta us anymore…'

'I can't afford to loose me first mate, especially not when the second one is still missin'…' Drake sighed, rubbing his temples.

'She'll show up, Capt'n. Ye know 'er. Ye've said it yerself. She escaped… she's crafty enough ta do it. We all know tha'.'

Drake sighed again. He had told his crew over and over that Devon would somehow return. But with each passing day, with every passing week, he became less and less convinced that she was really safe.

He rose from his seat, rubbing the Inca ring. He didn't know exactly when this had become a habit, but he didn't particularly care right now. Not when there was so many other things that needed his attention. He took a deep breath.

'Take me to him.'

TBC……

And now for the personal reviews to the reviewers:

Funkyflamingo: thank you for your continued support m'dear, it is greatly appreciated. Glad you liked the last chapter and I really hope you enjoyed this one. And why she was throwing up… who knows... you have to keep reading to find that one out I'm afraid…

Sparrow's strumpet: aww. You thought it was cute? Well it was wasn't it; a bit too cute perhaps, but then again… they both do have a soft spot. Glad you enjoyed it and I hope you'll stick around for more... not necessarily cuteness but for more … developments.

Natilee: thank you for your compliments, it means a lot when someone appreciates the depth I'm trying to add to the characters and for your suggestion… I might take up on that in further chapters. No promises though, just a "maybe".

LaLa: Yes I'm alive! You think you know why she was sick? Well you best find out if you were right then eh? Hope you liked the update, even if it took so long

Murphyangel: Thank you for the compliment, it's always great to see your work is appreciated! Hope you liked the newest chapter!

XJammi-JessX: you thought it was an amazing chapter? Gee thanks! I want to check out your story whenever I find time, but seeing my lack of updates time seems to constantly outrun me… but when I can spare the time, I will. I promise!

AJ-Sparrow: Pregnant? Devon? Well they sure did a lot of practice, but you must bear in mind she's been around the block a few times, so she knows what to do to avoid it. Keep reading and reviewing and I'll keep on writing!

Wednesday: Ha mede kaaskop, geweldig om te zien dat er nog meer Nederlanders vertegenwoordigd zijn op deze geweldige site! En nog geweldiger om te lezen dat je verslaafd bent geraakt aan m'n verhaal. Hoop dat je dit hoofdstuk ook leuk vond. / Hello, fellow Dutchy (cheese head), wonderful to see there are more Dutchies represented on this amazing site. It's even greater to read that I've managed to somehow captivate you. Hope you liked this chapter as well!

Writerplus: Thank you for reading and for leaving such a kind review. And you read all the chapters in one go? Amazing luv, just amazing. And greatly appreciated you managed to dig me up from underneath all those POTC-stories!

Depplover2: I've continued as you can see, so please enjoy and keep reviewing! And thanks for the compliment!

The flying breadstick: Your review quite literally made me blush. I really put a lot of effort in the depth and the characterisations of the characters and I try to make them dimensional. But Jack is so hard to write, I constantly doubt myself on his account, but your review took a part of that insecurity away. Thanks for that. And thanks for putting me on story alert!

Geanna: Hope you haven't died since my last update and you're still around to read this post! Thanks for reviewing luv, keep doing that I don't mind at all!

Ta maman: Thank you for your wonderful review, that made me blush also. I think they're a nice couple of narcissistic pirates together and I just adore writing them both. Devon might get the upper hand a bit more thus far, but Jack's not going to let her walk all over him. Infatuation only goes so far…

Thank all of you, you quiet readers also, for reading and reviewing. Please keep it up! It means so much to me and Linthilde.

Until next time,

Hugs from Holland

The DuTchess


	31. Fire Water Burn

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything Disney owns or has created. I just like to get a little piraty every once in a while.

E/n: Even promises made with the best of intentions have to be broken sometimes… Real life has a fun way of sneaking up on me in the best and worst of times, I hope you all can stick with us through this because we aren't quitting any time soon.

_Author's notes:_

_Hello lovelies! I am well aware of the fact that its been ages since there's been an update but life caught up with us and especially Linnie's life is very very hectic even more so at this moment. The chapter you're about to read, is in fact a lot longer originally, but this is the one part she's done editing and I really wanted you guys to know we still exist. The flames of inspiration are still burning as it were. I hope you guys will bear with us, because we love this story and we love hearing what you guys think. Thank all of you loyal reviewers. You are in my scurvy black heart forever!_

_I hope you'll all enjoy this next instalment. The rest will be posted as soon as possible and the next chapters are already in the works. I won't make vain promises that can't be kept, because life has proven to be unpredictable, but were doing the best we can._

_Love, Angela_

_**Chapter 31**_

**Fire Water Burn**

_You're burning in water, drowning in flames_

_the laws & the lies are all one & the same_

_now you're burning in water_

_and you're drowning in flames_

_Burning in Water_

_By Leftover Crack_

--------------------_  
_

Three days. Three days left to find Drake. The note said he hadn't made berth at the cave they used to… but why? What was going on? Devon's mind was racing.

There was no time.

That thought acted as a constant reminder to Devon, reminiscent of a proverbial clock whose time was almost up. Now they had to go and roam the shores of the island, and they had to do it fast. If they were too slow then that could ruin her chances of reuniting with her Captain and crew. It seemed almost ironic that even though the crescent-shaped island really wasn't that big, there were so many places to look for _The Hazard_.

_Well, I s'pose it be best ta start wit' th' first place tha' comes ta mind_, Devon thought.

'Bullet, sweetie, follow Mommy now will ye?' Devon cooed to her dog as she took Jack by the arm and began to drag him down an alley.

'Where are we goin' now tart?' Jack queried as he glanced over at her skeptically.

'Ye read th' note same as me, did ye not? I know fer a fact tha' yer vision is jus' as good as mine, so I don't think yer eyes were malfunctionin'… We only 'ave two more days ta find Drake, so let's not waste any more precious time arguin' 'bout this.'

'Then where do ye suggest we go, oh wise one?'

'Are ye havin' issues this mornin' or somethin'! I told ye b'fore Jack, there be a cave that's not too far from here… Drake hid _Th' Hazard_ there once b'fore when th' royal pain-in-th'-arse navy was on our backs. I jus' hope tha' Drake anchored there this time too.'

'Ye think he'll still be there?'

'Honestly? I 'ave no fuckin' clue.'

'Well, that's bloody helpful tart.'

'Tis th' only place tha' I can think o' at th' moment,' she mumbled as she lengthened her strides a little more. This action caused Jack's arm to slip away from hers, but in her harried state she didn't seem to notice.

After a few moments Jack was beside her again. It was only then that she noticed his hand had been removed from hers because it now pulled at her arm, bringing her to a gentle stop.

'Even if ye don't find Drake, yer free ta stay aboard th' _Pearl_ Devon. I can offer ye a position aboard me _Pearl_ if ye'd like. Th' position could be temporary or permanent, tha' decision is yers ta make o' course…'

Devon glanced back at him and frowned in thought. She studied his eyes to determine his intentions and found that they were locked steadily on hers.

She could see herself in his eyes.

She looked closer to see if she could find little lines around his eyes. She found that they always appeared when he was either joking or mocking her… and they weren't there. The more she searched, the more she got lost inside those beautiful eyes.

'Yer serious aren't ye?' she finally breathed.

'Aye, I am. Yer a good pirate an' a true craftsman… er… woman. Th' work tha' ye've done ta tha' canon alone is amazin'. That an' I ain't e'er seen someone wit' a shot quite like yers,' he added, his mind recounting the many times she had amazed him with her impeccable aim.

She smirked just a little after his speech. 'I love what I do, an' I've found tha' when ye do yer job wit' passion an' devotion things seem ta turn out fer th' better.' She quipped.

Jack heard the passion and determination in her voice and he knew that this belief must have been taught to her early in life. Not only that, but the more he thought about what she said, the more sense it made.

She smiled when she noticed him deep in thought about what she had just said. 'A Duncan Black sayin' that be Jack. Try 'n remember tha' one. Jus' remember ta credit me Pa when credit is due,' she winked at him and Jack snapped out of his reverie and smirked back at her.

'But ta answer yer offer: as temptin' as it sounds, Captain, I don't think tha' I could work fer ye. Ye know tha' I'm not too good wit' authority. If ye were ta talk ta Drake 'bouts tha' at some point in time he'd agree with me… Ta be honest, we'd most likely end up killin' each other. Our relationship is different than th' one I 'ave wit' Drake…' At this point Jack smirked and Devon was tempted to smack him upside the head for his stupid smirk and that beautiful and tempting mouth of his almost breaking her concentration.

She shook those thoughts from her head and continued. 'Whene'er I get on Drake's nerves, he jus' threatens. Harshly spoken words they be, but no more then jus' them harsh words. It be them words tha' make me watch me steps fer a while… but I know tha' no matter what I do, he'd never raise his sword against me and I wouldn't reply in kind. But when it comes ta ye, well ye've already proven ta me once tha' a threat from yer lips is a promise as well…' She grazed her neck with her fingers as she spoke of her scar. As her fingers trailed the scar, Jack's eyes followed her long skilled fingers and he silently agreed.

Even though everything had changed between them on that night they gave each other scars, they found that they both still knew just how to make the other's blood boil. Jack knew that Devon's temper could ignite his own in a heartbeat, which would make him fume with anger as well. If they were to stay together for longer and on the same ship… well then, he really didn't know what would happen between the two of them. Perhaps she was right about their unique relationship… there would be one day where they wouldn't kiss and make up, and instead they just might finish it off completely…

He thought he would never hurt a woman, but her… hell, he'd already done it before. It had happened in Tortuga, and even though it was at a point in time where he didn't particularly care for her, he still hurt her. Granted, she _had_ hurt him first… He subconsciously rubbed his upper arm where her knife had grazed his flesh all those nights ago… He found that he cared for her now, and he might even care for her more deeply than he ever intended, but perhaps the infatuation would wear off after they were separated for a long length of time.

It always had before.

Of course, he neglected to realize that this situation might be different. He hadn't been this fascinated by a member of the other sex before.

They silently shared a knowing look that lingered for moments, and when neither of them broke the gaze Jack cleared his throat to break the connection. 'Aye tart, yer prob'ly right…'

When Devon finally tore her eyes away from Jack's she spotted what she had been searching for in the distance. The cavern! To the untrained eye it was just a small inlet covered mostly in dense shrubbery, but to a pirate it was a secret cove to dock a ship in, and to Devon it was a beacon.

'Blimey Jack, there it is!' Devon whispered as her eyes scanned the inlet for any sign of her crewmates.

'What is it?' he queried, genuinely curious about what she could have spotted and why she seemed excited about it.

'Tis th' biggest whorehouse on Bermuda,' she husked cheekily.

'Where? Why out 'ere… we're in th' middle o' nowhere? Point it out ta me tart! At least now I'll 'ave somethin' ta do while yer on yer search!' Jack commanded as he looked around him frantically.

'No ye idiot…' she rolled her eyes and chuckled at his sudden enthusiasm, 'Methinks tha' _Th' Hazard_ is anchored o'er yonder,' she supplied as she pointed out to the inlet on their far right.

'Damn,' he said aloud and slapped her playfully on her arm. 'Yer such a tease… gettin' me all worked up o'er yer inlet.'

Devon glared at him. 'Pity there ain't one 'ere ain't it Sparrow… Then I'd be rid o' ye an' yer infernal lust for all things female tha' will 'ave ye.'

'That's a tad harsh luv…'

'But ye don't deny th' accusation I see.'

Jack didn't respond, and took out his spyglass instead to see if he could spot her ship. He couldn't figure out how she was so certain _The Hazard_ was anchored in that cave.

'Devon me dearest, I don't see nothin' tha' even remotely _looks_ like a ship… let alone yer _Hazard.'_

'But Jack I don't 'ave ta see it, I know she's there,' she said cryptically.

He cocked an eyebrow. 'How's that luv?'

'Cause she be callin' me, beckonin' me 'ome…' she whispered.

He smiled. She certainly was a Captain's daughter. A ship could grow a man easily, and most would not think anything of it… Therefore it doesn't seem all that unlikely that a ship could grow on a woman as well. When the woman in question was the daughter of a prestigious pirate Captain, then that trait would be thought to come even more naturally. He looked over at her, with her hair twirling in the wind and her eyes radiant with newfound determination and fire. For all her beauty, she still looked a little pale though…. _I wonder why tha' is…_

'Wha' _are_ ye lookin' at? See somethin' ta yer likin' do ye, Sparrow?'

He grinned, his former concern over her forgotten for the moment. 'I might…'

Devon smirked. 'Now who's bein' th' tease?' Then she took his hand and tugged him forward. 'Let's go 'cause currently I be eyin' somethin' o' _my_ likin' over there.'

'Ye mean lil' ol' me? Why Devon I didn't know ye cared.' Jack teased.

'C'mon Bullet, let's go 'n see yer Uncle Drake now,' she cooed to her dog while Jack stood behind her and watched her walk away, stunned that she managed to out-maneuver him again.

--------------------

'Fine place ta hide a ship, I must admit…' Jack mumbled more to himself then to Devon as they neared the shrubbery that surrounded the inlet. 'Yer _Hazard_ is shallow on th' draft, right?'

'Aye. 'Ow else would we be able ta navigate through th' reefs?' she jibbed as she continued to chop away the greenery which blocked their path. Devon led them deeper and deeper into the shrubbery, and Jack was beginning to think she was leading them further and further away from the inlet instead of closer to it.

All of a sudden she stopped and began to push against a large stone which was placed in front of the rocks.

'What _are_ ye doin' now, tart? Now I know yer remarkably strong fer a gel, so there be no need ta prove yer strength 'n such this instant,' Jack sighed as he rolled his eyes.

'As much as it must pain ye ta know, I jus' happen ta more more 'bout this bit o' land than ye… I'm not doin' this ta prove some bleedin' point ya bloody pain in the arse! Since this is rather heavy, I'd rather 'preciate ye helpin' me wit' this one, oh grand Capitaine! Now push!' Devon grunted out as she pushed again. Jack joined in once he realized what she her intentions were, and with their combined strength they made the big stone roll aside. This left a narrow hole in the rocks that lay before them. Devon unsheathed her sword and spun it around inside the entrance. When that didn't make enough of an effect, she whacked off a few branches from the bushes and proceeded to spin her sword inside the entrance even more frantically.

Jack looked at her and couldn't help but grin. 'Have ye gone _completely_ mad? Wha' is it tha' yer doin' now?'

'Spiders…' she stated. 'I be scarin' 'em off.'

Jack quirked an eyebrow and couldn't help but laugh out loud once he recognized the sheer panic that swirled around in her eyes. The laughter was soon too much and he began to cough from the dust in his lungs. Devon just glared at him.

After a short while, when his laughter didn't cease soon enough for her, she snapped back at him, 'Are ye _quite_ finished there, Sparrow?'

He looked up and she saw that his kohl had made a track of black down his cheeks. As soon as he saw how appalled she looked he proceeded to laugh again. 'Sorry luv, seems tha' there's still a lit'le left. Give me a few more minutes,' he chuckled.

Devon tapped her boot on the ground while he made a complete arse out of himself and her as well. The power behind her glare could sear holes into him, and he felt it even if he didn't acknowledge it yet. She was furious! Here she'd gone and shown him one of her biggest weaknesses for goodness sake! No one had known that spiders scared the living daylights out of her… but now he did. He knew and he now demeaned her with his laughter.

After a few moments more his laughter ceased and he cleared his throat. 'There, that's better. All good now,' he husked out. 'Yer turnin' inta a real woman more 'n more, Devon. Who knew tha' th' gel wit' th' guns 'n daggers would be scared o' an itsy bitsy spider. Lemme go first darlin' an' I'll scare 'em off fer ye.' He mocked and planted a gentle kiss atop her head. He then proceeded to crawl forward into the entrance of the cave.

It did not matter that Jack had gone first into the cave, for Devon still shuddered when she followed him. The cave was damp, and the smell reminded her of prison cells or the mouldy iron holds of enemy ships. She could care less about most of the inhabitants of the cave, but there were only two that had any effect on her. One only fed her anger, but the other put a fear like no other into her.

All that mattered to Devon was the fact that she currently shared the same cramped space with these eight legged freaks that really made her skin crawl. The more she thought about them, the angrier she got at herself for her fear and the weakness that gave her. Spiders were naught more than tiny insects which served some purpose, or so she had been told. Nevertheless, they would become extinct at this very instant if she had any say in the matter.

It was only when something crawled over her hand that she drew in a sharp breath. She kept her composure, but once she felt it move up her arm, her breaths became laboured and ragged, and even though she tried her damnedest not to scream she could not contain it. What made matters even worse was the fact that the noise that erupted from her throat was more of a girlish squeal than a scream. All her pride and all the glory in the world could not make her ignore her inner torment over these damned creatures. She crawled forward in a flash, without a thought about the consequences of her actions. She pushed Jack aside, and kicked her legs and arms hysterically in order to throw her eight legged attacker off. When she finally reached the exit of the cave, she rushed out. She jumped and shook her hair and every limb on her body in order to make sure the horrible creature had been evicted from its temporary residence and was no where near her any longer. She felt the tears well up in her eyes as she realized how her actions must have made her look.

Jack crawled out of the tunnel as fast as he could and was beside her in a flash. He placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them softly in an attempt to calm her. 'Darlin' they're jus' bugs, they won't 'urt ye. I thought ye'd be unbreakable an' tha' nothin' could get ta ye. Ye've looked death in th' face on more than one occasion an' ye've _laughed_ at it…. An' now yer facin' these tiny insects tha' are prob'ly more scared o' _ye_ crushin' _them _than ye should be 'fraid o' them. They've got ye so frightened tha' yer shakin' like a leaf in an autumn breeze. Tha' don't make much sense now does it, tart?' he husked.

Devon bit her lip and blinked her eyes, trying anything and everything in order to regain her composure. But she was still rattled by the damned insects and succumbed to this weakness when she realized that her eyes continued to dart around her in search of more of those monsters. As she risked a glance up at Jack, she thought she saw a black thing near one of the trinkets in his braids. Her eyes bulged and her heart began to race again as she tried to locate the small black object that she had just seen move in Jack's hair.

Jack watched her eyes dart around and smiled at her silliness. He pushed a wayward strand of her hair out of her face and tried to soothe her once more. 'Fer God's sake, pull yerself t'gether woman! Yer a pirate an' yer on yer way ta yer ship… ye don't want Drake ta see tha' ye've turned inta a basket case now do ye?'

'N-n-no…' she stuttered as she tried to calm herself. When they heard noises approach them, Jack let go of her and drew his sword quietly.

Even in her state of distress, Devon discerned that it was the voices of her crewmates. She quickly dried her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse.

'Tis alright Jack… it's just me mates.'

'Yer kohl is smudged, Duville,' Jack remarked when he looked towards her, sheathing his sword once more.

'So is yers…' she quipped and grinned, even though the focus of her gaze was directed into the cave rather than at Jack.

--------------------

Despite the pounding of her heart and anxiety at the feeling of those monsters all over her body, Devon had found her calm again. She still felt itchy all over her body, but her desire to hug every one of her crewmates and to finally be reunited with her mates again was stronger than her angst she had at the moment.

'Miss me ye buggers?' She shouted.

Hoggins dropped the bucket he held at the sound and Jameson turned around wildly to see find the cause of the commotion.

'DEE! YER _BACK_! MARY BE BLESSED! WE ALL THOUGHT WE'D LOST YE!'

'I be like a weed, ye can't get rid o' me tha' easily gents!' Devon grinned as she walked towards them.

Hoggins dropped to his knees as he saw the black and white Bulldog trot up to him. 'Oi, ye lit'le pig, ye made it back 'ere alive too eh? I missed ye too lit'le one, I really did.' Hoggins couldn't help but cuddle Duville's odd dog. It had grown on him over the years, as had its mistress.

Jameson looked at Devon in awe, but there was a small smile that tugged at his lips. When Devon's tooth gem sparkled back at him, his smile faded slightly. 'Ye couldn't 'ave come at a better time, Dee. Stevens is very ill. We don't know if he'll pull through this time…'

Devon's grin faded instantly and she reached out for her mate's hand. 'What's wrong Jamie? Is 'e dyin'?'

Jameson and Hoggins shared a single look, and Devon found that she didn't like that look one bit. 'Take us ta Drake Jamie…'

Both men turned around but glanced back at Jack before they moved. Devon understood their skepticism at once. 'Lads, this be Capt'n Jack Sparrow o' th' _Black Pearl_, I suppose ye've met 'im back in Tortuga... He, well… let's just say tha' if it weren't fer him, I'd be dead... several times by now. Now _move it _damnit!'

Three men, a French bulldog, and the woman who was everything but a lady boarded _The Hazard_ a few minutes later. All of the crew on deck rejoiced to welcome Devon back and looked questioningly towards Jack. To silence their unspoken questions Devon just waved them off as she strode into her Captain's Quarters. As she entered, she closed the door in front of Jack.

'What be wrong wit' Stevens, Drake?'

Captain Isaac Drake, who stood with his back turned towards the door as she entered while he rummaged through his books, was startled by her voice and hit his head on the shelves above him.

'BLAST IT! Now ye've gone an' made me hit my head!' Drake cursed, right before realisation hit him and he whipped around to face her. 'Duville! My God Devon, I've never been happier to see ye!' He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to him in a gentle embrace. 'I knew ye'd turn up again,' he said as he kissed her forehead gently. 'I just bloody knew it!'

Devon's eyebrows shot up when she felt him nuzzle her hair. 'Capt'n!' she scolded as she pushed herself out of his arms. 'I do believe tha' it be improper fer a captain ta hug an' cuddle a crewmember in such a manner, Sir. Not ta mention th' fact tha' it makes me jittery as hell.'

He moved away from her. 'My apologies Devon, I did get carried away there. I'm just so damn glad to have ye back in one piece. Please, Devon, do sit down. Ye inquired 'bout Stevens an' I'll fill in all the blanks for ye, if ye'll tell me all that's happened since Port Royal. Ye want a drink?'

Devon blinked... quite a few times as she processed what Drake had just said. The speed with which he agreed to her request surprised her, and the speed with which he rattled off all of that impressed her as well. Her Captain had always been relatively open with her, but this was an all time first. She sat herself down in the plush chair across from him and took the goblet he had filled for her. She drank it dry instantly, savouring the taste of the strong white rum in her mouth as she inhaled the scent of home. This was where she belonged.

After Drake had informed her about the critical condition of the ship's first mate and had asked her about the dual charted map, Devon realised she had left Jack outside. She surprised Drake when she stood in the middle of their conversation to walk to the door to his quarters. When she opened the door she saw him engaged in conversation with several of her crewmates on the deck.

'...And that's when they made me their chief,' he said with a dramatic flourish of his hands. She grinned at the sight of him in front of an audience.

'Oh Capt'n Chief? Would ye care ta join me an' me Capt'n fer a moment, please?' she asked mockingly whilst she tugged at his sleeve.

'But o' course!' he said as he removed himself from the barrel he had recently sat upon. He pressed his palms together and bowed gracefully to his crowd of enchanted listeners before he followed her across the deck and into Drake's quarters.

--------------------

Isaac Drake rose from his seat to welcome his old crewmate aboard his ship.

'Captain Sparrow, it truly is wonderful to see you again. Welcome aboard _The Hazard_.'

'Likewise, Capt'n Drake. Likewise indeed,' Jack said, shaking Isaac Drake's hand firmly.

'I understand that ye took good care of my master gunner an' I'm in your debt for returning her to me.'

Jack smiled a broad golden smile. 'Well, yer not in debt per se Isaac ol' chap… but we _could_ help each other out an' I'm sure tha' we can come ta some sort o' satisfyin' arrangement tha' will suit us both…'

Devon glared heatedly at Jack, knowing exactly what "arrangement" he was referring to. _Do NOT tell 'im 'bout th' treasure you asinine excuse fer a Capt'n!_

'First things first,' said Drake as he gestured for Jack to sit down. 'Care for a drink, Jack?'

Jack removed his hat and smirked. 'Ye know I'm not known fer turnin' down a stiff drink, Isaac.'

Devon stood behind them as she studied both captains closely. Even though their professions were one in the same, they were so very different. Drake was the clean shaven, blond-haired pacifist, while Jack was the dirty, rugged, seductive strategist. Both of the men were very good and qualified Captains, but they had such different traits which made them both so good at what they did.

She knew that she could never be attracted to someone like Drake. She admired him and cared for him, but he didn't ignite anything other than loyalty on her part. Jack, however, was a whole other story entirely. He was full of raw emotions followed by gentle touches, rough acts that would overshadow the delicate sensitivity that not many knew he possessed. And he could make her laugh. Despite their bickering, she really had enjoyed her stay aboard the Pearl and had spent more time with this peculiar man then she would've ever thought.

But now their ways would soon part. Perhaps she could persuade Drake to form an alliance with Jack, and then they would be able to spend more time together. But she knew that even after that time was up, he would sail out of her life just as she would navigate out of his. When she fondled the Inca ring she found on Drake's desk in order to get her thoughts straightened out, one side of her body started to heat up... it became hotter and hotter very rapidly until it reached a point where she couldn't bear it any longer. It felt like her flesh was on fire and she dropped the ring in shock. The very moment the ring left her hands and hit the desk, the feeling receded as quickly as it began.

'Ex-excuse me if ye please, gentlemen, it seems tha' I fergot somethin'...' she stammered, her heart rate increasing rapidly. She exited Drake's quarters as fast she could, Bullet following in her wake.

She ran down the stairs, nearly toppled over some rope coiled in the passageway and then locked herself and her dog inside the armoury. As soon as the door was closed and the bolt slid into place she took a deep breath. She removed the map from her britches and threw it on the floor.

'Da? Ye around?' she called pacing the floors of her cherished armoury. She never once took her eyes off the parchment that had nearly burned its way into her flesh.

No answer came and she fidgeted with her fingers. When she closed her eyes and tried to figure out what the hell was going on, the warm brass voice of her father came to her literally out of thin air.

'Devony?'

'Da…' she breathed in relief. 'So glad yer 'ere. Am I goin' insane?' she asked looking at the map on the floor to her right.

'What's wrong, Devon? Ye think ye might be with child am I right?'

She shook her head 'No! But tha's actually not what I need yer advice 'bout... it be tha' wicked map! Nearly scorched me it did! 'Sides I can't be pregnant. I didn't plan to! It's not even possible! Ye r'member as well as O tha' th' doctors said after tha' attack... I can't... 'tis impossible.'

'They said ye can't conceive Devony...' a pained Duncan Black finished the sentence.

'Aye. An' tha' was fine wit' me! Ye know how I am Da... I ain't cut out ta be a mother. I won't give this life up! Not for anythin' in th' world...' she whispered. Her voice was soft, even though she had just spoken with fervour.

'Is that yer honest opinion, darlin', or just what ye believe is th' truth?'

'It be how I feel, Da. I can't be pregnant... and especially not by Jack.'

She felt his emotions after her last statement and her father's voice drew quieter and closer. When she opened her eyes, she could see him just as she had when she was about to die. He was not as bright as he had been then, but he was here, with her, and his ghostlike presence comforted her.

'Devon, ye love th' man and ye could be carrying his child...' Duncan Black spoke followed by a hasty, 'Ye DO know it's his don't you?'

'If I even am pregnant, which I'm not, I'm sure it would be his... Ever since Tortuga I 'avent slept wit' anyone else. He has o' course, but I haven't. I don't know how far along I am or e'en if I'm bloody pregnant at all, but if I am... it be Jack's. But that's not wha' I wanted ta talk ta ye 'bout Da... I need ta ask ye somethin' 'bouts tha' bloody map.'

Her father completely ignored her again and continued. 'Devon, can it be that yer scared? That yer scared 'bout bein' pregnant?'

She snorted, even though she was close to tears. 'Tha's bollocks Da! I ain't scared 'o anythin'! Never was, never will be! Well... besides spiders tha' is. And I'm not pregnant! It be this map tha' has me worried Da!' she said, once again pointing to the dual charted map which was lying innocently on the floor.

'I mean, are ye scared of becomin' a mother?' Duncan Black persisted.

Devon sighed angrily. 'No, I jus' don't want ta be a mother! Is tha' so hard ta understand? I've ne'er pictured meself as bein' anyone's mother. Or bein' anyone's wife fer tha' matter. I've had - I mean I HAVE other aspirations an' goals fer me life. There are couples tha' have up ta ten or more children, so I be certain tha' they all did my part ta increase th' world's population. I want ta grow, get better, an' be th' best pirate I can be. I long ta be a Captain o' a ship o' me own one day an' 'avin' a baby would prevent tha'. Plus, what kind o' a future can a pirate provide? I won't 'ave th' time ta be a mother 'cause I be hunted by th' damn law constantly. Always bein' surrounded by danger, never stayin' in one place fer long…. Even if I wanted ta, I couldn't do tha' Da. I'd 'ave ta turn inta a landlubber wit' a fatherless child tha' I can't take care o' an' I'll die o' boredom ta be sure. I _live_ fer adventure. I chose this life an' th' freedom it gives ta me, even if tha' means th' death o' me. If I don't get hanged before tha' anyway… An' then wha' would b'come o' th' babe? Da I'd go mad. I couldn't sit home all day, an' not feel th' roll o' th' waves b'neath me. I can't have such a life Da. I be certain tha' thousands o' women will disagree an' lynch me fer sayin' this out loud, but I ne'er _planned_ this ta happen, I ne'er _wanted_ this ta happen and I won't _allow_ this ta happen.' Devon proclaimed as she bit her lip. It seems that no matter how much conviction she put into that speech, she just couldn't hold back the salty tears that currently stung her eyes.

'An' what o' the father?'

'Wha' do ye mean, wha' o' th' father? I'm not goin' ta tell him o' course!'

'Yer goin' to deny a father the right o' knowin' that he's expectin' a babe?'

'Yes, tha' be exactly wha' I'm goin' ta do, since I have no intention on havin' this babe!'

'DEVON BLACK! YE TAKE THAT BACK!' Her father's voice was sharper than ever and she was eerily reminded of her childhood. It sounded as though she was about to be punished for something, and she doubted whether she could charm her way out of this situation.

'No Da I won't do tha'. Even if against all th' fuckin' odds I do turn out ta be pregnant. I'll have Drake drop me off somewhere an' then I'll get some pennyroyal oil, swallow it an' that'll be th' end o' it. No one e'er has ta know o' this,' she sighed, unconsciously playing with her knife and cutting open the palm of her hand in the process. With a significant portion of her thoughts on this conversation and the rest on that bloody map, Devon didn't even realise she had cut herself. 'Da, I drink heavily, I smoke frequently, I've taken laudanum in th' past an' have drank absinthe... ye can't expect this child ta live through tha'... Plus I've nearly been gutted once! Th' doctors said tha' I could ne'er even conceive let alone carry a child ta term.' By now, blood was dripping onto the floor on the armoury from Devon's neglected wound and when Duncan Black saw this he scolded her again.

'I won't 'ave any daughter o' mine talk about pennyroyal! Ye've learned too much in those bars Devony. Since it looks like ye've already planned this out, I assume tha' ye've given some thought ta th' matter and that ye _are_ pregnant… Devon ye need ta think this over. Ye also need ta dress that wound before any more of yer blood spills on the floor.' Her father's voice softened as his speech went on but he sensed that this conversation wasn't over.

'NO! We don't know tha' fer a fact so don't ye be treatin' it like one!' she spat back. 'An' I called ye ta talk 'bout th' freakin' map tha' burned me, not 'bout th' possibility o' me bein' wit' child!' She then processed her father's last statement and queried. 'What wound?'

'Devon,' her father spoke, his voice gentle and calm once more. 'Ye've cut yer hand on that knife in yer hand, an' don't go stickin' yer head in the sand. Ye're with child ye _know_ ye are.'

'Perhaps, but tha' doesn't have ta mean tha' I have ta be content or happy 'bout it…' she said as she glanced at her hand and proceeded to lick the blood away from the cut.

'Stubborn as ever I see…' Duncan Black sighed as he shook his head.

'An' I take after me ole man,' she sighed. 'Da, ye were hardly ever 'round when I was younger an' when I was finally old enough ta go out ta sea, mom prevented it, 'cause she was well aware o' th' dangers. I wanted ta go out ta sea ta see ye too. I barely e'er saw ye… Ye know tha' I don't take after mum, ye know me an' how I am... I'm wild, rambunctious, an' some may say irresponsible as well. How fer th' love o' all things holy can ye honestly picture me as a mother? I can barely take care o' me onesies! See?' she said, thrusting her palm in his direction, the wound still not bound. 'Proof 'nough fer ye? I didn't even realise I did tha' til _ye_ mentioned it!'

'Ye have Bullet, do ye not? Ye've made second mate an' you've taken care of yer crewmates do ye not?' Her father countered.

'Tha' be somethin' completely different an' ye know it. I _chose_ ta take Bullet on, I made a well thought out decision ta take 'im wit' me. Yer comparin' apples wit' pears 'ere an' I'd really 'preciate it if ye didn't. 'Sides I didn't call ye ta discuss me physical health... it was me mental health tha' had me worried...'

Her father sighed in resignation. She was so much like himself, and it rattled him. He had thought things along the very same lines when Devon's mother had first told him that she was expecting. He had run off at first. He was a coward and set sail the day after he had heard the news. He'd spent months in denial about it, and had cursed himself many times over for this stupid mistake… but eventually he sailed back to her and he'd welcomed this situation with his whole heart. He loved his daughter more than anything he'd ever known. In all that time, he had never once thought that the mother-to-be could have these same feelings. That sense of failure, of anger, of insecurity. His daughter fought the idea of her possible pregnancy will all her might and Duncan Black knew that if she wouldn't resign to her fate and warm up to the idea of this babe and her pregnancy, then his grandchild would never live to see the light of day. He knew his daughter well enough for that.

'Fine, we'll drop the subject o' the babe fer now… But what's wrong wit' ye mentally?'

'That map!' she said, aiming an accusing finger at the map that lay on the floor across from her. 'It scorched me when I picked up tha' horrendous ring tha' Drake took off th' Spanish vessel… Why in th' Hell would it burn me?'

Her father moved towards the map, but as he came closer to it, the map glided away from him. Devon stared on blankly as the map no longer touched the ground but hovered just over the wooden deck as her father.

'See wha' I mean? There be somethin' terribly wrong wit' tha' map... e'er since I laid me hands on it its given me nothin' but sheer hell,' she huffed.

'Come, come now Devon, ye never were the kind ta believe in ghost stories... what are ye sayin'? Ye think it's cursed?'

'How in th' Hell should I know? Out o' th' two o' us present I ain't th' one who be familiar wit' ghosts, remember?' she accused, looking at the map as if it were going to attack her at any moment. She watched it move slightly once more with narrowed eyes.

Duncan Black placed his translucent hands on his daughter's shoulders and tried to console her. 'Ye'll find out soon enough. Where there's a curse there's also a cure an' please, do yer mum 'n me a favour an' try ta see a doctor soon, Devon!' And only those cryptic words of wisdom her father's form faded into nothingness and she was alone once more.

'Very bloody helpful Da!' she shouted to the empty armoury. What kind of help was that? Instead of finding answers her father had only succeeded in furthering Devon's torment. She was currently analyzing the map and her condition and was steadily burying herself deeper and deeper in the riddles that gave her no comfort and no answers.

Devon took off her boots and lay back on the floor. The smell of the gunpowder eased her frayed nerves slightly. When she tilted her head to the side, she caught sight of the thing that sent her into this frenzy, the bloody map that was the cause of her current headache. She scowled at it.

She let her mind wander to the other topic that plagued her thoughts. She had convinced herself that she wasn't pregnant before she spoke with her Da. She knew couldn't be, so she found that there was no need to see a doctor anyway. But that map still caused her grief... that map, there was something devilish about it and she needed to get to the bottom of it, soon. The parchment appeared to glisten, and out of sheer curiosity she reached over and grabbed the rolled-up map. She began to poke at it with her fingers to see if anything would happen, but when nothing happened she laughed at her own silliness and rolled it out. She placed a boot on either side of the map as anchors so that she could study it. She rolled over on her stomach and leaned on her forearms and noticed that the markings now looked somewhat different than they had before. It almost seemed as if the islands had changed position. She knew because she had memorized the coordinates when she first acquired the map, but how they could change she was not sure…

TBC

Pennyroyal; The herb Pennyroyal (Mentha pulegium, family Lamiaceae), is a member of the mintgenus; an essential oil extracted from it is used in aromatherapy. Pennyroyal has a traditional folk medicine use in inducing abortions and is an abortifacient. These oils are high in pulegone, a highly toxic volatile, which can stimulate uterine activity. Pennyroyal tea has been traditionally employed as an emmenagogue to promote menstrual flow, and as an abortifacient to initiate self-abortion. Pennyroyal tea may safely stimulate mild increase in menstrual flow, but the oil is very different and can be used to induce abortion. However it should not be used to self-abort since complications can always occur: in 1978, a pregnant woman died after consuming two tablespoonfuls (20 ml) of Pennyroyal oil, and in 1994, another death occurred after a pregnant woman (attempting to self-abort, but with an unknown ectopic pregnancy) consumed tea containing Pennyroyal extract.

Source: Wikipedia

Groetjes,

Angela


	32. Struggles

_Disclaimer: All that's Disney's is theirs, all that's mine is mine!_

A/N I'm sorry I've kept you so long, but as usual life kept me busy as Hell. And as far as Linthilde goes; I've tried to get in touch with her, but since I haven't heard from her in a while I can only assume her life is even more hectic then mine. Thus; this is the first chapter I post without her blessing and without her little miracles to make the chapters better. I really wanted to post a new chapter now. I hope she'll understand. And if she ever gets to edit this chapter in the future, it'll be replaced with a Linnie-version. So keep in mind that this next installment hasn't been edited, enhanced and beta-ed by Linnie. Be gentle!

Until that…. Enjoy!

Chapter 32

Struggles

**The battles that count aren't the ones for gold medals. The struggles within yourself -- the invisible, inevitable battles inside all of us -- that's where it's at.**

- Jesse Owens-

'Did she give you a lot of trouble?' Drake questioned as he took another sip of his brandy.

"Well she did warm up ta me eventually, but she can be quite a handful I can tell ye that"

Drake chuckled "I know... I know... The ship was so empty without her. I curse her from time to time, beating myself up over the fact why I even got her aboard in the first place, but she does her job and she does it damn well too"

'So I've noticed.' Jack agreed, smirking.

Drake caught the glimmer in his former mate's eyes and he couldn't help asking "Did anything happen between the two of ye'?"

Jack took another swig of rum and smirked an all saying smile "Nothin' tha' we didn't agree upon beforehand, mate"

Drake sighed, he had know there had been chemistry between them back in Tortuga, but somehow it did sting him to find out Devon and Jack had been more than friendly towards each other "I'm glad the two of you found us, though. There's a lot going on here as of late and I don't seem to be able to make heads nor tails of it"

Jack leaned forward suddenly very interested "How so?"

* * *

When Devon carefully touched the parchment of the map with her fingers, the tip of her finger got wet. She studied the floor for leaks and then looked up to see if there was water dripping down from there. There was nothing to be seen. Then she felt her cheeks with her other hand, there were no tears either... She sniffed her fingertip and a familiar scent filled her nostrils... when she tasted the fluid on her finger; it tasted salty. It was, in fact, water. Salty water... sea water! She looked at the map again; her blue eyes narrowed to slits... again it seemed the islands on it had changed their position. She touched the water on the map again, and was startled to find that her finger could sink into the water as she lowered her finger. _What the fuck is this? I've studied it before and it was just another map back then… why is this happenin'? WHAT the fuck is happenin'? _She immediately rolled the map back up and unbolted the door, taking the map on top deck. She didn't notice she was leaving behind a trail of water droplets all falling out of the roll of paper she was carrying.

'Oy Dee, good seein' ye 'gain, give us a nice big hug why don't ye?" Shredder shouted as she passed him by.

"No time sweetie... no time", she said bustling through Drake's cabin doors.

Both men looked startled as she came in. Drake raised his voice "I've told you over and over Duville, ye need to knock befo-"

"Yeah Yeah I know…knock before I enter, but lectures are not of any importance now... what's with this map, Drake? It keeps changing and it's been wet and warm since I've set foot on the Hazard again... it's burned me hip! Look!" She pulled down her breeches on one side, and exposed a flash of skin, swollen and reddened with a white mark amidst the red.

Isaac Drake was shocked and looked away; Jack Sparrow however smiled a devious smile and touched her burned flesh with one grimy fingertip.

"Hands off Jack, I'm serious! I want to know exactly all there is to know about this map."

Drake broke from his shock and glared at his second mate "You've _told_ another Captain about the map?"

She returned his glare with an icy one of her own "No Drake, I didn't _tell_ him. He found it all on his own!'

'Did he now?"

"Aye. That he did"

"And how did that happen then? If the Royal Navy didn't find it, how come _he_ could?"

Jack stepped forward placing himself between Devon and Drake, grinning "Well, after all I **am** Captain Jack Sparrow..."

Both Captain and gunner now turned their heads toward Jack and their eyes made him retreat "well... guess yall know that... never mind then... do carry on" he said with a flourish gesture of his hands to let them continue.

"How did he find out about it Duville" Drake demanded, his voice cold.

'I hid it down me breeches and he found it there"

Drake was positively aghast. Given, after Sparrows statement he could have expected them to have gotten physical, but now he was dead sure they had. Sparrow hadn't been messing with him.

'Devon?' Jack asked as his eyes were glued to her still exposed hip.

"What?' she snapped.

'There's a symbol on yer hip…' Jack said; his voice lowered as his hands reached out to touch her hip again.

She sighed heavily irritated "What do ye mean, there's a symbol on me hip. There's always been a symbol on me hip, Jack I inked it, I've told ye that"

"No, tart… there's a mark in that burn'

Drake's eyes darted to the red skin of his second mate and he was in awe 'He's right, Devon, there is a mark on yer skin… what the devil's goin' on here…'

'Hand me a mirror, lemme see' Devon spoke, looking closer to the burn mark.

Drake strutted backwards, his eyes still on the hip of his master gunner. He took his shaving mirror off the wall and handed it to Devon.

She took it from him and moved it along her waist down to her hip. "What the _devil_ is this??" she said her voice little over a whisper. Three pairs of eyes were now glued to the burn mark on Devon's right hip. Two pair of eyes were looking directly at the flesh; one blue pair had to use a mirror to see the marking.

'Ok, let's just stay calm and think about this?" Drake reasoned, his grey eyes slightly bulging in disbelief.

"Stay calm??" Devon roared. "That sardonic map burned me and now I'll have this mark ta show fer it fer as long I live! As if that blasted P wasn't enough already."

'Oh but luv, ye wear it so well' Jack grinned, but his grin fades as his eyes returned to the mark.

It was some kind of symbol. And while both Captains were trying to figure out what it was and what it represented, Devon just wondered how the hell it could have gotten there in the first place and why. Devon touched it, even though her skin felt hot, she didn't feel the burn anymore; it was like the burn wasn't on her but on someone else's skin instead of her own.

"I-I have ta sit down now..." Devon stammered, suddenly feeling unwell. She pulled her breeches back up and letting herself sink into Drake's chair. "First that map burns me, and then it turns into water, then it moves around and now it's marked me... I need ta be admitted inta a mental institution'

'It moved and turned into water?" Drake questioned thinking Devon must have someone gained severe head damage in the time they had been apart.

'Yes... it moved across the floor and when I finally was able to pick it up I opened it to see what had caused it to burn me, I saw it; the islands have moved on the map. I've studied it countless of times b'fore, I know the coordinates by heart... now they're not on those coordinates anymore'

Jack leaned into her "Are ye absolutely sure Devon?"

"Sure as Hell I am... plus... when I traced the current coordinates, the water on the map, turned into water, my finger sank in. Try for yerselves if ye don't believe me" she said pointing to the map.

Drake unrolled it and did as she told him, but the map was dry as a cork and since he had never actually seen the map before, he couldn't tell if the islands had changed location or not.

"Devon, its dry... it's just a map. An intricate one, but just a map"

Jack couldn't help but look over Drake's shoulder and he saw what his fellow Captain saw; a plain yet intricately drawn dual charted map, but he knew there had to be something going on with this strange map, judging by the marking on Devon's hip.

"Well it bloody wasn't dry when I checked it… look there's a trail of droplets on the floor, where do ye suggest those came from?? Drake I want ye ta tell me all there is ta know about this map. This map has gotten me inta more trouble then I ever could've bargained for..."

Drake sighed, looking curiously at the water splatters on the floor to where Devon had tossed the map "Alright, but first I need to know weather you're in or not Jack. No need to burden you with useless information if you have other plans"

Jack answered without thinking. He was in for another adventure and if that meant spending more time with Devon then it was a win-win situation really.

"Count me in. Me ship 'n crew is anchored on the other side o' 't island. We've got no plans besides the usual pillage-plunder 'n pirate business, so I say get it off yer chest mate' he said, letting himself sink into the plush chair again and putting his hands behind his head eager to learn what Isaac Drake had to say.

Drake poured himself and the others another drink and took another deep breath 'Well, stories go the Inca ring I took from that Spanish ship is cursed, so is the map and thus is the treasure. I never believed it though. I just found that ring interesting. I never even thought twice about those stories, until we lost you', he glanced over to Devon and she could see the pain behind his steel grey eyes "and when Stevens got ill and no one can find out what's wrong with him. Still, I just blamed bad luck and misfortune for all the things that have happened but the mark on your... hip...' A short nod with his head to Devon's limbs, 'proves otherwise'

'I'd say so", Devon muttered, swallowing her portion of the liquor in one big gulp. "Just the P wasn't good 'nough... NOOO that bloody map thought I needed more than just that one mark..." she hissed under her breath.

Jack studied the map "What kind of treasure are we talkin' bouts 'ere exactly?'

"The heirloom of the last Inca king Atahualpa of Viracoccia that ruled their Kingdom from a settlement called Machu Picchu before the Spanish captured and killed him and the Inca reign ended. The whole Kingdom vanished from the map, supposedly it moved from a country in the New World to one small Island. Then, supposedly, that split into two due to the rivalry amongst the followers of King Atahualpa and those against him and now the islands are floating about, doomed to float forever since they'll never find their home again. The only two things that prove the legend is true are the dual charted map and the ring I took." he said picking up the ring and fondling with it.

"May I"?' Jack asked gesturing to the ring.

'Of course" Drake answered letting the large golden ring fall into Jack's palm.

'Beautiful" Jack said. "Horrendous" Devon spoke at the same time. Jack glared at her "What do ye mean horrendous; this is true craftsmanship, just feast yer eyes on all the intricate details on it... look how big it is...how shiny"

Devon grinned, regardless of the situation she and they all were in 'Ye're like a crow, Sparrow... ever thought of changing yer name?? Captain Crow..."

Jack didn't answer, but looked at the design of the ring again. After a while, his dark eyes narrowed to slits and a deep frown formed between his eyebrows, another deep frown formed under his now sweat drenched bandana. He stood up, without uttering a single word and undid the fastenings of Devon's breeches and pulled down the fabric on her hip "What't devil???' Drake stuttered.

Devon didn't say anything; he acted to quickly for her to respond. She, however, could not prevent the shivers from running down her spine as his fingers touched her skin again.

'Devon, Drake... looks!!" Jack spoke breathlessly, holding the decorated side of ring in front of the mirror and next to the marking of the burn on her hip. Devon glanced down and, although she saw it upside down, she knew what Jack had discovered "Well I'll be damned... a perfect match... but how--"

They were cut off by Jameson, the Hazards quartermaster, knocking heavily on the door "Capt'n!! Capt'n!! We need ye down in the sickbay... Stevens condition has worsened again'

* * *

When Drake rushed after Jameson, Devon followed straight after her Captain "Watch Bullet for me Jack!" She shouted.

Instantly all the unexplained things that had happened up till then had been forgotten. All that both Drake and Devon cared about was Stevens' well-being, but where Devon had hope, Drake's heart was heavy with fear.

When they reached sick-bay Cooper, the ships "doctor", let Captain Drake enter the room. When Devon tried to follow Cooper held her back "Sorry, Duville. Stevens wants to have word with the Captain and the Captain alone'

'But I need to see him, its been so long since I've seen him and if whatever ails him takes a turn fer the worse, I might not get that chance again' she retorted, trying to get past him.

Cooper took her arm "I know you care about Stevens, Dee, but I have to respect his wishes. He doesn't want to see anyone but Captain now'

Devon sighed, resting her hand lovingly on the door "I see. Tell him not to give up 'n fight this, will ye? He still owes me a rematch in cards'. She tried to make her words sound lightly, but Cooper picked up the concern underneath.

"I will, Devon. Trust me I'll see that he gets your message'

'Thanks Coop! Patch him up for us' and with that she left returning top deck again.

_If ye're up there, whatever ye are… help 'im through this. He don't deserve to die… he's a good man! Save him. _She looked at the sky while she whispered the words, folding her hands on the rail. She was getting tired as time went by, her body told her that, but her mind couldn't stop racing. Stevens, the map, the odd marking she gained... Jack.

Devon didn't need much sleep; she didn't think she'd have been able to either. Not when so much was going on, not when Stevens' life could be at stake. She stood at that point of the ship for a long time, just staring into space. She didn't register time; she was thinking everything over in her mind, praying for Stevens to pull through. She really didn't was all that religious but she knew that whatever it was up in Heaven, if there even was a real Heaven, would know Stevens was a good man. Hours had passed since she had left her Captain with her superior, but she didn't notice.

'Penny fer yer thoughts' she suddenly heard next to her.

Smiling gently, she turned her head and returned to the here and now. The sun was just about to rise above the dancing horizon in front of them, letting the warm glow fall inside the cavern. She had to shield her eyes from the power of its glow that was nearly blinding her now. _When did it get dawn? _She wondered. "Ye can't afford me thoughts, ye pathetic wanker.' she teased shoving all of her worries in the back of her mind at that point. She was so grateful to be with all of them again, even under these peculiar circumstances. "How've ye been, DaCosta? I didn't get to ask ye that until now'

Her apprentice kneeled down and petted her dog "I really did miss yer dog, Duville' Devon looked down. _When did Bullet get here? Didn't I leave it with Jack?_ She looked across deck, spotting Jack near the mizzenmast. He stood there watching her. He nodded to her and then turned his back on them.

She looked at her apprentice again.' Ye've missed me dog. Just me dog? Now that just downright wounds me, Mon chér." she pouted mockingly. He rose to his full length again and smiled. God she really was beautiful, he thought, not daring to look her straight in the eye. "Nay, not just the dog. I've missed ye too. We's all did, Duville"

"Well I really must admit that I've missed ye guys too, even more then I do when I'm on me leave in Singapore' she said.

"Dee?"

'Aye"

'Could ye imagine a bloke like me ever endin' up with a woman like yerself?" he whispered. Immediately regretting him voicing the question he had been eager to ask for so long.

She smiled at the honesty of the words that he had spoken 'Of course I can, but she better not be quite like me, fer your sake that is. Ye need a carin' 'n devoted woman, one that'll wait fer ye till ye get back on leave. A woman like me would keep yer bed warm while occupyin' other men as soon as ye ship back out'

He dared a glance at her face "Ye'd really do that, wouldn't you?'

Devon frowned "I prob'bly would, yes'

DaCosta placed his hands on the rail and looked at the rising sun "But what if ye fall in love?" Devon's mind drifted to the Captain that was leaning against the mainmast currently. _Right, Devon, what if ye fall in love? Ye think ye can just pick up yer usual way once ye say goodbye ta Jack Sparrow? Ye think ye'll rush back into another mans bed_ _after ye've said yer goodbyes? Ye could be carryin' his child... ye DID fall in love, remember?_ And there was that voice again, the voice she hadn't heard in quite some time.

Shredder walked by tugging at Devon's sleeve "Drake wants to see you, Dee'

'Love and I don't exactly mix DaCosta'. She stated her voice harder then intended. "Now, if ye'll excuse me, I need to go find Drake"

She turned away from him, her heart heavy with emotions. She looked at the mainmast, but Jack was nowhere to be seen. Bullet followed its mistress loyally to Drake's quarters, and then sat itself down besides the double doors. The dog closed its big eyes and basked in the morning sunlight.

* * *

She knocked two times "Who is it? I made it clear I do not want to be interrupted. What's keepin' Duville?' Drake's voice sounded agitated...

'Duville, Sir. My apologies fer the delay. May I enter?'

'Aye, come in"

Devon shut the door behind her after she entered. "Ye wanted ta see me, Sir?'

'Yes, I do as a matter of fact. Please sit yerself down, Duville" he said flatly. "Captain Sparrow, would you be so kind as to excuse us for a moment?'

_What did I do now? Devon wondered. Oh God, Stevens died!!_ Then she looked at Jack _When the Devil did he get here?_

"But of course", Jack said. Getting up from the chair and striding out of the quarters. Before he passed Devon he squeezed her shoulder briefly.

"There's been a voting last night, after I've been to see Stevens. He proposed you to follow in his footsteps if he doesn't make it. ' Drake continued as he heard the doors open and close again.

'Yes Sir' she said, realising why he had asked for the meeting. 'Did he-' She didn't get to finish her sentence because she nearly chocked with dread.

"No, he's still with us. He's fighting to live. We need to keep the faith. You should too, me made me promise to tell you that. He said you'll get your rematch'

Devon smiled "Thank God'

'Do not get your hopes up, Devon. His condition isn't stabile and his fever is still not under control'

She sighed heavily. Drake saw he concern behind her blue eyes and felt the need to share the good news with her to take some of her worries away for the time being.

"Getting back to the voting; I must congratulate you Devon, the men have faith in you. As do I. It was Stevens wish and the men have voted all in favour of you. You've earned it to become first mate, if you wish it. But of course you must realise taking the job will limit the numbers of leaves you get to Singapore, I'm fairly sure you've thought of that, did you not?'

She nodded, that was the one downside being first mate. Not being able to spend as much time as she usually did with Lee. "Aye, I'm aware of that consequence. It doesn't measure up to the benefits though. Though I wish this promotion would be under better circumstances…'

Drake smiled genuinely. Devon could be a pain and cruel to some extent, but she had her heart in the right place, he had always known that "So, does that mean you'll take it?'

Devon's blue eyes sparkled a bit "Did ye ever doubt that?"

'Not a hair on my head has ever doubted your ambition Devon" he chuckled.

Devon snorted "Will that be yer own hair or the wig, Sir?"

'Don't push your luck, Duville. You haven't been initiated yet" his words were a bit harsh, but he said them with smiling eyes.

'I can't wait" she said getting up from the chair.

'You'll be initiated at sundown, before we set sail again. You can go now. Please send Captain Sparrow back in if you would"

"Aye, aye Sir" she said; grateful for everyone's trust in her person. Devon was back on her nest, master gunner and second mate and soon she would make first mate even if it was for as long as Stevens was recovering… or fighting his illness for that matter. The results of the voting, which she had completely missed since she had obviously been standing on deck for the most part of the night, was very important to her. Life aboard the Hazard, or any other pirate ship for that matter wasn't the complete anarchy many of the noble God fearing landlubbers deemed it to be, but it was very much a democracy. Isaac Drake had told her he and the rest of the crew had faith in her and even though Devon knew she had earned the promotion, she also knew that regardless of the closeness she had to her crewmates, some of them just might have had second thoughts about her becoming first mate. Some may have thought it wasn't the right position for a woman to fill regardless of how hard she worked or how good she was at her job. But they hadn't voiced their doubts, all were in favour. She was so glad knowing she was appreciated and valued because of her skill and not still being judged on her gender.

On deck Jack was no where to be seen, but when she looked at the spot she had left Bullet, the pirate Captain was sitting right next to it. Engaged in a seemingly one sided conversation. She however knew her dog and its traits and thus she knew the mimic of the French bulldog at this moment meant the conversation had been far from one sided. Bullet understood every word Jack had spoken to it, regardless of what everyone else might say.

"Now there's a sight fer sore eyes' she said.

'We were jus' thinkin o' what we could to ta ye' Jack smirked. That smile was so genuine it made Devon's heart pound in her throat. God he was gorgeous, he truly was. _Never tell him that, though, it'll only make his ego swell. _"Were we not, Bullet?' Jack said, rubbing the dog's big head.

The dog barked in return.

"Were ye now? Well ye can both start by congratulatin' me!' Devon said.

Jack rose to his feet "And ta what occasion, might that be then?' Bullet got up too and nudged its misstress' legs with his head.

'I made first mate, all were in favour'

He inhaled sharply, this wasn't good. Of course he was happy for her, but this wasn't good for him. She'd work even closer with Drake and chances of her taking him up on his offer, foolish or not, had just vanished. Plus this had to mean the condition of the current first mate wasn't too good either "Well, congratulations tart! Knew ye 'ad it in ye.'

'Thanks Jack. Drake needs ye again. I'm goin' to try an' get me some shut-eye, if they haven't turned me cabin inta an altar that is…' she mumbled.

"Do that tart, we'll talk later'

TBC


	33. Answers

Disclaimer: Anything that belongs to the mouse belongs to the mouse.

AN: Hey there, I've finished this chapter a long time ago, about six months ago I believe. Unfortunately I still haven't heard from Linthilde (sobs) and I really wanted to post this chapter before the trailer for pirates 3 comes out. I decided to polish it up again, read it and rewrite it . And there you have it. The next chapter. Enjoy. And please let me know what you think. Without Linnie's editing I really could use a little feedback. I really want to thank PineAppleLint, Smithy, Jane Minatti and Pirate-Chic for their reviews. It really means a lot to me!

_**Chapter 32**_

_**Answers**_

"**_It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how faith does things'_**

_**Donald Miller**_

Not long after Devon had installed herself in her own cabin, she really realized she was home. This little room; these four rough tar pitched wooden walls, a space perhaps even smaller in size than one of Elisabeth Turners dressers - she thought with a chuckle – had become more of a home to her then any other place had ever been since her father had demised. _The Dark Devotion_, her fathers pride and joy had been a home to her; at least it had felt that way whenever she'd been aboard her father's ship. Her visits aboard had been infrequent and hadn't been often nor long enough to her liking, but from what her hazy mind could recall is that she'd felt at ease there. Really at ease.

As a child Devon had spent the main part of her younger years in the Black's residence with her mother. That house, impressive and perhaps beautiful as it was, had been just that; a house. Four walls, several windows, a door and a roof. But it hadn't been "home". It was and always had been the sea that had called to her from the beginning on. She positively loved the ocean and the sense of freedom it provided. As a child she had been able to swim before she could walk and water had always been a magnet to her. Devon inhaled deeply as more and more memories filled her mind, as she absentmindedly touched the tar pitched wooden wall of her cabin with her grimy fingers.

She belonged on this here ship. And although The _Black Pearl, _as grand and beautiful as she was, had proven to be delightfully sinful to spend time and work upon, she was just means to serve a purpose. A way of getting home. _The Hazard, _on the other hand truly was her home, she had realized that long ago. Stone walls and solid grounds had never felt homely to her; quite the opposite factually. A brick cage was the more appropriate term for what most people called a home. And she'd never really grown her land legs, or gotten used to them for that matter. Devon needed the dancing horizon in front of her, the roll of the waves beneath her, the smell of tar and wet wood and just a hint of gunpowder to really feel alive. And even though the _Pearl_, Jacks cherished and beloved ship had all those elements, it lacked one very important essence. Devon had been a _guest_ aboard her and therefore had been treated as such. _The Hazard_ on the other hand, had cost her blood, sweat, blisters and years of hard labour. But this ship had been worth ever droplet of salt and crimson she'd spilled on her decks; worth every splinter and sore, because here she was accepted for what she could do. It didn't matter who she was, since not a soul aboard the _Hazard_ knew her heritage. No one knew who she really was, but they had eventually accepted and respected her as one of their own; as part of the crew and this ship had accepted her presence same as the _Devotion_ had done when she was still playing with wooden swords on the deck of her late father's ship. She inhaled deeply, savouring the smell of dampness in her nostrils and sighed. _Home_.

Desires of owning and captaining her own ship were dreams that she would cherish forever, but for the moment she was content with what she had. Content with _where_ she was. She glanced around her small cabin; a luxury that – besides the Captain – only a woman aboard a pirate ship could afford - and smiled contently. Everything was still in its rightful place, she established, once she had taken a good look around. Bullet had already installed itself on her cot, as if it had never left its place and was snuggling itself in the rough blankets. Devon locked her cabin door and stripped down to her – Jacks; she realized when she gave it a closer look – blouse and crawled in her bunk next to Bullet. She absentmindedly touched the marking on her hip again and frowned. Oddly enough it was located on the very spot she had planned to get her next ink. _So much fer that idea._ She thought angrily. When she moved her hands across her abdomen she couldn't help but notice that her stomach was slightly bigger then it had been before. Devon was a strong, muscular woman and even though her build was broad – like her fathers'- and she'd never been called skinny, her stomach had always been relatively flat, but now... it wasn't that flat and lean anymore… '_Maybe talkin' ta Cooper is a better idea then talkin' ta AnaMaria at this point_' Devon thought getting more and more concerned. Something definitely was amiss. _Why did his have to happen? _

After a few tries of relaxing herself without rum in order to fall asleep, she gave up trying and got herself dressed again. Her dog looked up when she got up from her cot, but after a few loving strokes of her long callused fingers behind its pointy ears, it lied down again and soon after it gently started to snore again. She could even hear the snores when she climbed the staircase to top deck.

First she went on deck, breathing in the midnight air. When she looked at Drake's quarters she could make out two figures inside. Jack was obviously still in there, discussing with Drake. Her seeing his outlines in the windows, made her only more resolute to find the answers she wasn't too sure she even wanted to unearth. Yet, she needed to know what was amiss soon as possible. She retreated below deck again after silently greeting Jameson with a curt nod of her head.

* * *

His doors were open, much to her relief. She needn't wake him since he was apparently going through some of his paperwork.

'Cooper?' she whispered, careful not to wake or rouse anyone else besides the man inside the cabin.

The grey haired navy renegade looked up from his papers; the rims of his reading glasses shimmering in the lamplight. As he looked up, he found Devon leaning heavily against the doorframe.

'What is it, Duville? Thought you'd be sound asleep by now", he glanced over his spectacles to look at her, a soft smile gracing his thin lips. 'After all ye've been through…'

'Apparently sleepin' is a luxury I can't afford these days…' she murmurs. 'Can ye spare me a few moments o' yer time? I could come back at a more convenient time though…" she said, making herself ready to leave Cooper's cabin again. _Bad idea. Very bad idea._

"No, it's quite alright Devon. Please, sit yourself down', Cooper said, gesturing to the chair next to his desk.

"No thanks, but I think I'd rather stand fer this..." she said, suddenly feeling very uncertain if coming to Cooper was a good idea. _Definitely a very bad idea, Dee. _She played with the hem of her –Jacks- blouse again and stared at her feet. _Turn around and leave!!_

'What's on your mind, lass? If it's Stevens', I still can't predict how and if he'll pull through… he's not out of the woods yet, even if he comes to every once in a while" he said gravely as he stacked his papers into a neat pile and lay them aside. Devon looked at the older man again and sighed. _There be no turnin' back now, Dee._

'Nay", she said her voice catching a little "It's not regardin' Stevens, it's me."

'You?" Cooper said, immediately checking her visible skin for wounds.

'I need ta see a doctor, Coop. No offence, but I need ta see someone who doesn't know me'

Cooper leaned across the table that separated them and studied her more closely. Tilting his head to the side, he asked 'Why Devon, is something wrong? A nice mug of rum or grog can fix that insomnia in a flash. Should old Cooper set you up with a nice little nightcap?' as he spoke he reached down to open a drawer in his desk.

"Nay, that ain't necessary. It's not the insomnia, I'm jus' worried. It prob'bly is nothin' serious' she said as casually as she could, 'But I need advice from someone who ain't opinionated, but knows 'is business.'

Cooper pulled his hands away from the drawer and looked at her again 'If it be advice you be needing, you've come to the right person Devon' Martin Cooper answered, gesturing to the chair opposite from him.

'Nay' Devon retorted resolutely 'Ye won't do.'

'Why not?' he countered, and although he knew Devon didn't like to beat around the bush, he found himself wounded by her bluntness this time.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest in order to somehow create more of a barrier between her and the ships physician 'Because I know you'll judge me and I need someone who can do a checkup and counsel me without passin' judgment on me person"

Martin Cooper took off his spectacles and placed them atop the stack of papers, then proceeded by folding his hands. He looked at her; his grey head tilted a bit "When have I ever judged you, Duville? When have I ever betrayed your trust?'

He looked at her and the earnestness in his eyes made gave her unsteady voice a bit more warmth 'Ye never 'ave in the past, but you'll start doin' so now, I sense tha' ye will'

Martin Cooper cleared his throat as he rose from his seat. 'You are aware of the fact that anything spoken in this room, stays and remains in this room, are you not? Pirate or not, I'm still a doctor and I take great honor in obliging the trust that comes with this job"

She looked at him, she could trust him, her gut told her that, but still... the risk of unwanted exposure was too high. "I know that, sweetie, but I don't want the checkup ta take place on the ship and I don't want someone I know ta perform it. I need ta see a physician ashore. Do ye 'ave a name o' a doctor I can visit?"

Cooper looked down to the floor. Disappointment etched upon his wrinkled face "I see. I take it you must have your grounds. But I honestly don't know any doctors that will help pirates here; friendly port or not. You'll have to ask Drake himself, I'm afraid'

"But I could just dress up nicely…' she countered 'Wear one o' those repugnant dresses Drake always wants me ta wear amongst decent folk. An' go visit a random physician anyway, maybe they won't notice…"

Her mind was racing to find ways to visit a doctor ashore. Any doctor. Anyone besides Martin Cooper, who could tell her if she was going mad or not.

Cooper couldn't help but chuckle "Dee, you loathe dresses! That aside, have you checked yourself in the mirror lately? You're covered in ink, you've got the brand; that big black dragon may hide that brand in your mind, but civilized woman do not sport animals on their body besides on their laps. And dragons certainly don't fit the description of a house pet. If you need a physical checkup, you will – no doubt - have to strip down in order to get examined. Even exposing your body partially, will show God knows how many tattoos, what the Devil makes you think they won't notice you're a pirate? Go on and ask Drake, Duville, he's got more friends than I in Bermuda. I'm sure he'll be glad to help you out"

"No, no' she retaliates. 'Drake can't know!! There's no need or purpose in informing him' she added swiftly. Cooper thought he'd seen a flash of sheer panic swirling in the blue of her eyes and he became more and more intrigued with the woman in front of him. Whatever she had on her chest was something very important.

Devon looked at the older man across the room. His eyes were soft and when he didn't press the matter any further she sighed. 'All right, turncoat, If I let ye do it, will ye swear on pain o' death 'n all ye consider holy that everythin' I tell ye and everythin' ye do an' see will stay 'n remain confidential? I'll kill ye if ye blab, I can assure ye that! Don't make me 'ave ta do that, Coop. I've always 'ad a soft spot fer ye'

'I swear it on my honor, Duville. Ye can trust me as you well know. No one save you and I shall know of it. Whatever it is that troubles you; you can confide in me.' His mind was racing; he'd never seen Devon in such a state. He'd never even seen her even the remotest bit nervous either. Whatever the matter was that lay on her chest; it was serious, very serious.

She sighed, finally taking the seat Cooper had offered her when she had entered his so called office, drumming her hands nervously on the armrests. 'Alright fine! Here's the deal. Remember that raid with the Spaniards five years ago?' As the expression on her face changed and her features hardened, Cooper instinctively knew what particular foray she was referring to.

'Aye I remember, Devon. I remember all too well.' He said softly as those black memories came back to him. _The Hazard _had lost several brave and capable hands that dreadful day and Devon… 'They got you bad, that they did. But the wound did heal rather nicely did it not? We were fortunate to be near Antigua, so we could perform the surgery in time'

Devon winced. That had been the first time her life had actually hung on a mere thread. Cooper and his contemporaries from Antigua had indeed saved her life, but the long rugged scar from her breast down to her pelvis still proved that not all of her could be saved. 'Do ye remember the damages and wounds?' Devon asked carefully.

Cooper scratched his head, leaving his grey hairs to stand on end on that side of his scalp 'Yes I remember quite clearly Devon, but why do you ask?"

"I need ta know, just answer me question' she urged. 'Do ye remember the damages and me wounds?' Her blue eyes darted across the room and Cooper saw her fidget with a strand of rope or something the like on her wrist.

"Do you really want to go into that, don't you remember how traumatized you were after that? How long it took you to recover?'

She swallowed. Images of the battle shot through her mind. Flashes of the attack came back to her, scarlet and ink black flashes of pain tormented her retina. She closed her eyes in pain. She tried to shut the images out, but to no avail, they kept on drifting back to her from the dark and gloomy recesses of her mind. The remembrance alone was almost suffocating. Her whole body trembled from the recollection of the pain and horror. She had overestimated herself back then, like she so often did and she'd been foolish enough to have deemed herself invincible. Of course she had lacked experience and had been too eager to prove her braveness and skills in front of the men. The training her father had given her had been helpful indeed, but only to a certain extent. She'd forgotten to heed his warning to never be overanxious in a fight and never fight just to draw blood. The younger Devon had been reckless and overeager. And thus, reality had proven to be one of her most painful memories and one of the hardest lessons learned. Blood was drawn to be sure, it just so happened to be her own. And lots of it too. Cold chills trailed down her spine as the images got clearer, but she needed to hear Martin Cooper say the words. She needed her injuries verbalized. She desperately needed clarity and Martin Cooper was the one to bring her back into those gloomy recesses of her mind.

'I remember more vividly than ye can possibly imagine Coop', but I need ye ta tell me what happened to me. Please. It's of the utmost importance…'

'Alright, have it your way' he sighed in resignation, taking a deep breath before he answered her query. 'You were damn near gutted, the blade cut your spleen, your left ovary was damaged, the fallopian tube also and ... well I don't have to tell you what happened to your uterus' he spoke slowly his eyes never losing track of hers. 'We've tried to restore everything best we could, you know we have, but still….' His voice wavered when he saw her bite her bottom lip and close her eyes. _This isn't good_, he thought and when he saw her fidget with the frayed hem of her blouse he got even more concerned.

"Devon, what's going on? Tell me please. To what point or purpose are you bringing all this up?"

She inhaled sharply, looking at the ceiling. Then she took another deep breath and fondled with the "bracelet' on her wrist again. 'I think I might be pregnant...' _There... now it's out in the open._

Cooper leaned across the table utterly dumbfounded. He'd expected anything. Anything but _this._ 'What? You can't be. Chances of you being pregnant are about as big as chances of pigs flying, you know that. Devon, dear, we've been over this countless of times' he sighed, looking straight into her eyes. 'Regardless of how I desired another outcome, there was no more we could do. You can't possibly be pregnant Devon, what on God's green earth makes you think you are?'

'Well, I don't rightly know, but it's a feeling. Gut feeling if ye like. An' a couple o' physical things… There's nausea without cause, me breeches are tighter then they used to be and I don't overeat or anythin'... Even though at times I feel like I could eat a horse… I'm so darn tired … I could sleep for weeks, yet I find myself bein' unable to do so… I don't know. I know I can't even conceive, but I'm just not sure anymore. I feel strange… different', she sighed in despair.

'Is your cycle regular?' the _Hazard's "_doctor" asked sternly.

'Nay, but it's never been even the remotest bit regular after that… incident.' She was trembling on her feet as she went on 'Yet I know when to fight me urges... an' the absence of a period ain't sayin' anythin…'

'Do you want me to examine you?' he asked, trying to read her eyes for the emotions he was positive she was trying to hide from him.

'Oh you'd like that wouldn't ye?!' She snapped suddenly 'Gettin' tween me legs an' takin' a good look down there?' She crossed her arms in front of her chest and turned away from him. She could feel the sting of those nasty tears behind her eyes again and she loathed them. She loathed herself, for how weak she'd become. What the devil was she thinking talking about this with Cooper? There was a reasonable explanation for things… there just had to be. There could be so many things ailing her, who was to say it was pregnancy that was causing her to feel this way? Yet there was this little annoying voice inside of her, not just her father's or the one from her alter ego, that annoying little voice that just wouldn't waver or budge…

Cooper calmly pressed the tips of his fingers together, knowing that when Devon's anger was about burst, it was best to act as if she hadn't said anything upsetting and continue as if nothing had happened. "You know I've seen countless of bottom halves of both genders in my years and I've operated you before, there's nothing new for me to see there, Devon. Honestly. You have to trust me.'

She sighed again, already regretting her prior outburst. 'I'm sorry Cooper that was out o' line. I'm just a little edgy lately... there's a lot goin' on and I feel as if me own body 's startin' ta betray me'

'I'm sure there be nothing to worry or fret about, assuming you didn't plan on getting pregnant' he continued calmly. He'd known Devon for quite some time and knew of her hedonistic flamboyant lifestyle, God knows, he didn't approve to her way of life, but he knew his female crewmate relatively well. Or at least, he supposed he did. Getting pregnant was not something he supposed a woman like Devon desired.

'Lord no!! Ye bloody well know that's the furthest thing on me mind, ye've known me fer a long time, ye know that's not the case"

He smiled "I'm just making sure, Devon. When is a good time for you dear, if you want to be sure, we'd best not waste too much time'

Devon shoved her chair backwards and rose from it. She strode across the room and bolted the door from the inside 'Now's as bad a time as any, so let's get this ordeal over with'

* * *

'If ye so much as show any signs o' pleasure or enjoyment, ye'll meet the barrel o' me gun, Cooper, I'm warnin' ye" she said taking off her boots and breeches. Even though her threat was vain, she felt she needed to remind Cooper that he'd best not mess with her in the state she was in. Devon had never been so self-conscious in her life before. She'd gotten naked in front of many men, and every single time she'd been radiantly confident but now… Now, she felt as if this was the first time she'd shed her clothes in front of another human being. And she didn't even have to shed ALL of them.

Even though the Navy renegade had looked away while she undressed her bottom half, he couldn't help but stare at all the drawings on her now exposed skin. He wasn't a fan of tattoo's - maybe his Navy past had something to do with that - therefore, in his opinion Devon had mutilated herself. His distaste must have somehow shown on his face, because when he saw her look at him with an icy stare, he quickly averted his eyes.

"You can make yourself comfortable on the operating table, Devon' he said nodding toward a long table on her right.

She snorted 'Comfortable he says... First time I let a man get b'tween me legs without actually wantin' 'im there'

Cooper looked at her "Ah come now, don't be such a girl, Devon. Do need clarity about your condition or not?' he demanded. There was a harsh edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. He hated having to do this just as much as she did, but he knew the only way to comfort her was to give her clarity and there was no way of providing that without him performing this checkup.

'I do', she sighed. 'But this is hard fer me, know that'

He smiled at her, despite his slight agitation 'When has it ever been hard for the illustrious Devon Duville to spread her lovely legs, eh?"

Devon chuckled, suddenly finding a bit of her sense of humor again 'Touché Cooper. Touché'

'There's that smile we all love so much', Cooper said, rubbing her legs to make her feel a bit more at ease. "Please do try to relax a little, Devon. I don't like doing this any more then you do, dear, but it needs to be done if you want security. Pull your legs up, will you please?'

'Aye' she whispered, resting her head on the hard table _What've I done ta deserve this? I didn't ask fer this... Why Jack, why'd I 'ave ta meet him?? Why?? This never would've happened if I hadn't met him... Then why did ye let it happen, pet? Yer mother and I 'ave been watchin' ye fer a long time. Given yer mother tends ta look away when ye engage in such activities, but ye've always stayed away from men around that time 'o the month… Ye didn't do that with Sparrow did ye now? her father reasoned. 'I did!' she countered. No ye didn't, because ye didn't think about it when ye were with him… think about that, pet Before she could mentally challenge her father again, she turned numb. It was true… He was right. Captain Jack – blasted - Sparrow had turned out to be a temptation she hadn't been able to resist. She was drawn to him, her whole being was drawn to him and she hadn't been careful around Jack… He had made her break all of her own rules just by being him. God, what a fine mess she'd gotten herself into now…_

Coopers warm gentle voice broke her from her trail of thoughts. He was washing his hands in the water basin. Devon could smell the soap on his hands when he moved closer. "Devon, relax your abdomen, I'm going to insert two fingers to feel your uterus now. Just breathe in slowly… 'That's right...' he said feeling her draw in a breath. 'And now slowly breathe out…' he cooed, but when he felt her resistance again, he redrew his fingers. 'Devon, this will be a lot less uncomfortable if you try to relax' Cooper sensed relaxing was hard for her, since her lower abdomen was rock hard and she resisted him. 'Relax Devon'

'I can't bloody well relax when you're insertin' fingers or utensils inside o' me' she snapped. 'At least lemme drink a lil' somethin' ta help me relax or jus' whack me unconscious with one o' them books ye study 'n get this ordeal over with' she snapped, her eyes darting around the shelves in his cabin in search for liquor.

Cooper sighed agitated 'If you think you might be pregnant, do you think it wise to drink, Dee?'

She drew in a breath 'I-I didn't really pay mind to that... I've been drinkin' yesterday and last night and well... I never stopped drinkin. I guess I denied it. Still do. I didn't plan on getting' pregnant Martin…' she pleaded.

Martin Cooper shook his grey head 'Let's just hope for all involved it will prove to be a false alarm then, eh?'

'I wish that fervently, Cooper'

'Devon, what's that mark on yer hip?' Cooper inquired, as his grey eyes locate a burn on her hip that looked very odd to him. He knew of Devon's fascination for tattoos but he also knew she loathed her pirate brand. He couldn't picture her wanting a brand on her body voluntarily. As he examined the strange marking closer, he couldn't believe his eyes. This was no regular burn mark… there was next to no blistering and the skin condition was impeccable. It was like the mark was on top of her skin, rather than burned into it.

'I honestly don't know' she said, trying to relax.

'When did you get that?'

'Yesterday. But I don't want to get into that now, let's just continue the torment shall we?'

Cooper nodded his head and continued his examination though his eyes were as wide as saucers. _Yesterday? And no blisters? Odd... very odd indeed. _

* * *

As Cooper washed his hands and rubbed them dry on, what appeared to be, one of the cleanest towels aboard the ship, he sighed, not knowing what exactly to tell her. Or how to tell her for that matter. He figured there was no way of breaking it to her gently, so he had to be direct. Devon Duville always was and had been one to speak her mind, so that was what he was going to do this time.

'What? What is it?' Devon asked, pulling her sea boots back on. He hadn't uttered a single word since he had told her she could get dressed again and Devon didn't like the eerie silence that lingered between them one bit.

'I don't know how to tell you this Devon, I can't even believe it myself, but as it seems you actually _are_ pregnant. You're in an early stage, a couple of weeks, perhaps a month or two I wager… judging by what I can feel'

She stumbled backwards in shock, aghast, losing her balance. Cooper could grab her just in time.

"No!! No I'm not...' she stuttered, her breathing was shallow. 'Ye're mistaken... ye must be. Ye've told me yerself... I can't even conceive'

He carefully sat her down in a nearby chair holding her by her shoulders gently "I'm aware of that, and due to those injuries it's very unlikely - neigh impossible - to get pregnant even if you'd tried, but you really are. I can't change a fact Devon, I wish I could, but I can't'

'But... but I can't be. Oh Lord, this can't be happening' she said, her voice little over a whisper, shaking her head fervently. Her whole world had just caved in around her. The floor beneath her feet had been torn away and she felt she was falling. She was falling deeper and deeper into her own personal Hell. Her biggest fear had just become an inescapable reality. The truth, the truth she had tried to avoid, but had known all along had now manifested itself in a dark ominous cloud and it was suffocating her. What in Hells' name was she going to do? What could she do?

'Devon...' Cooper said, trying to calm her. 'Devon look at me, dear'

Devon got up from the chair, pushing him away 'What kind o' a doctor are ye?' she spat. 'First ye and yer consorts tell me I can't conceive, I'll never be able ta have children and now ye tell me I'm goin' ta have a babe?"

'You being pregnant is no guarantee you'll have this baby Devon, there's a realistic chance you're incapable of carrying it to term'

'If ye think I _intend_ ta carry this child to term ye're deadly mistaken Martin Cooper!' she roared with venom, forgetting someone might hear her.

'Devon I - as a doctor - cannot allow that kind of talk. You will do everything you possibly can, anything in your power, to deliver this child. For as long as you're in my care, you will do exactly as I say, do you hear me?"

She walked up to him, as tall and determined as she could "There be nuttin' wrong with me hearin', so I hear ye. An' I really do appreciate all you're trying to do, but so long as this is _my_ body, no one but _me_ decides what happens, do I make myself clear?'

Cooper winced, her usually velvet voice now cut him like a razorblade. 'Devon, you honestly can't be serious when you say you don't want this child.' Martin Cooper countered. 'Think of it this way; you've got another couple of months to get used to the idea. Warm up to it as it were… And you'll see; after a while you'll come to realize that ever mother loves her own offspring... be it unplanned or not'

'And you base that on what? Have ye ever been in this situation yerself? Nay o 'course not! Ye're a man!' she spat. "Place yerself in my boots fer a change, will ye please? Findin' out ye're pregnant with a child ye don't want? Bein' pregnant when ye've always known there was no chance in Hell you'd even get pregnant in the first place? That you're carryin' an unwanted, unplanned child. A child that'll completely destroy all the plans ye've made fer yer life. All the plans ye've made fer yer future?! A child that'll stand in yer way o' pursuing yer dreams? I'm not happy with this situation, I can't provide a safe environment fer a child to grow up in, I can't promise eternal and unconditional love, there's no father, plus most importantly I ain't ready! I'm a pirate fer the love o' rum! I steal, mislead, connive an' kill when necessary; I don't nurture!'

Cooper, however, feeling his heart break at every single word she uttered, didn't give up that easily 'Devon you're close on hitting 30, most women already have three or more children at you're age, you should be grateful. Very grateful indeed that God has given you this chance.'

'Grateful?!?' her tone of voice again was as sharp as one of her famous throwing stars "I've nothin' ta be grateful fer! I'll be grateful when I'll be rid of it. There must be tons o' women out there, longin' fer a child of their own, prayin' ta sweet Jesus an' all they consider holy in order ta get pregnant. Then tell me why do I get pregnant when I don't want to...Tell me Martin **WHY**?!?' she was so angry; with Cooper…. With Jack…with her body …with this whole situation tears were stinging her eyes and all the muscles in her body tensed. 'I DON'T WANT THIS, COOPER!! What the fuck am I gonna do?' She was pleading with him, he realized and when he heard the hard, strong, pigheaded piratess sob, his heart broke for her. In her current state she was the complete opposite of the woman she used to be and Martin Cooper quite frankly didn't know how to handle or console her.

He took a deep breath. 'What you're going to do now Devon', he said calmly 'Is try and get some rest. Instead of fighting this situation you find yourself in, or fighting me for that matter, you should try and warm up to the idea'

'I don't bloody _want_ to warm up to the idea!! Why is that so hard fer everyone to understand!! I don't want to become a mother! Not now. Not ever!" she cried.

'Everyone?' he cocked an eyebrow. 'Who else but you and me know of this?' Cooper questioned not understanding.

Devon blinked, besides her and Cooper no _living_ soul knew of it, she should watch her mouth. "No one, just a figure of speech'

"So this would mean you haven't informed the father about the fact you think you might be expecting? Do you even keep track of the men you sleep with?' Cooper hadn't intended the words he spoke to sound so judgmental and accusing, but they were out of his mouth before he could think them over. He'd never heard this kind of talk from a woman before and at this point he was desperate to knock some sense into her. But by the look on her face he wished he could the words he'd spoken back.

'SEE??? There ye go judgin' me again. For ye're information, I've been invol--' she stopped in the midst of her sentence, realizing she'd almost told him she'd been involved in a semi-monogamous "relationship" for months now. That was none of his business, of no ones business actually. Besides, if she was going to have his baby, things between her and Jack were no doubt going to get even more complicated then they already were. Jack could not find out about this and she was sure as Hell not planning on telling him. Maybe she should shut him off completely. He'd gotten her into this mess in the first place. But somewhere deep inside her heart of hearts, she knew she couldn't do that. She was in too deep. She was in way over her head. She actually loved the man. But right now she resented and hated him with the same fervor.

'You've been what?' Cooper asked, seriously interested in hearing what she was about to say.

'Never mind. I know' she tried to sound casual, even though she was on the verge of a mental breakdown 'I've slept around, I don't know who the father could be... I mean ye know me, righ'? But that's no reason ta judge me, ye know the men do the same things when they're on leave and they all get praised fer it' she dried her eyes with the tip of her – Jacks – blouse leaving it smudged with a mixture of charcoal and tears.

Cooper opened his mouth only to close it again. She was right. Here he was judging her for doing the exact same things as many of the Hazard's men did once the anchor dropped in a new or familiar port. Not that he applauded their behavior in any way, but for a woman… it just wasn't done. Why was that? Was his discontent about her sexual behavior only, based on the fact that she was a woman? Was he judging her and her conduct solemnly because of her gender? Was he truly that narrow minded? Why was it something very shameful for a woman but a proud achievement for a man, he pondered.

'I'm sorry Devon. My apologies, you've got more important things on your mind then having to explain yourself or your actions to me. You outrank me for goodness sake and here I am pointing my finger. Forgive me"

'I said ye'd end up judging me did I not? That aside, why should you feel sorry? The whole male population o' the world shares yer opinion Cooper. Men's behaviors can be justified; us women however only end up bein' judged. Thanks fer givin' me certainty about my condition, Cooper. I can handle things alone from here on'. Her voice was resolute and cold now, so cold in fact; it sent shivers down Martin Cooper's hairy back.

"Devon, if you ever need anything, or feel the need to talk, my door is always open' Cooper said, regretting every word he had spoken.

"If you can get me pennyroyal oil I'd be most grateful, if not... don't bother helpin' me, I can manage' her tone was calculated and ice cold. She was hurt, and Cooper knew he'd hurt her. The strong, determined, headstrong woman he'd known for years, was on the verge of a mental breakdown, but he knew no one would ever get to see the real her underneath the strong façade. He wanted to aid her, comfort her in any way he could, he really did, but he wouldn't help her with self-abortion. That would go against everything he stood for and believed in. He was supposed to save lives, not end them before they had even really begun. He had hope though- little as it was – that she'd come around eventually and cherish the fetus growing inside of her and he passionately hoped she would - and be able to - carry it to term. After all; her pregnancy was nothing short of a miracle.

Martin Cooper heard the bolt on the door slide and a few seconds later it slammed shut again. He winced when he heard the door slam and rattle in its hinges.

TBC


	34. Love is a losing game

A/N Sorry this update took forever

_A/N Sorry this update took forever. I've been busy with work, life in general and waiting for Linthilde (Shannon) to get back to me, but after several tries I decided to put up this new chapter without her magic. I do realise patience is a virtue, but I guess I'm not as virtuous as I thought (sigh)._

_I hope she'll get back to me eventually and help me with my chapters again, but until that time comes, you'll have to make do with what I've cooked up by myself. I miss her tremendously and I really do hope she's just busy and nothing has happened to her. If you read this poppet, get back to me! You know where to find me._

_Now, without any further ado, I give you... chapter 34_

_Read and enjoy and leave a review so I know there are still readers that have stuck by me._

_Hugs from Holland,_

_Your Angela_

**Chapter 34**

**Love is a losing game**

For you I was a flame  
Love is a losing game  
Five story fire as you came  
Love is a losing game

Why do I wish I never played  
Oh what a mess we made  
And now the final frame  
Love is a losing game

**Amy Winehouse – Love is a losing game**

When Devon left Coopers cabin, she didn't go back to bed or return to her own cabin. It seemed rather inane at this point. She couldn't sleep anyhow and this disturbing news would only add to her insomnia. Besides that, she could use all the time she could get, after all Devon had a mind to clear and a plan to devise. She instinctively made way for the prow and took several deep breaths to regain her calm again. The cool midnight air felt comfortable on her hot face and it was in fact a bit soothing. Just a bit though. Because no matter how hard she tried she couldn't get rid of the atrocious thoughts plaguing her mind. The illustrious Devon Duville, daughter and only child of the late Duncan Black, had somehow managed to get herself in a situation she couldn't talk, bluff or weasel her way out of. _Oh God what am I to do? What CAN I do? _She was so tormented inside, she didn't even pay mind to the tears streaming down her face any more. Her trembling hands were clasped on the rail, trying to hold on to it for support. Her world and all her plans had ended. Here and now. _I need ta get rid o' whatever it is that's inside o'me. If pennyroyal proves ta be hard ta come by, I need ta take other measures… But what? What can I do?_

She stood there for a good hour trying to sort out her mind and thinking of ways to escape this situation she had gotten herself into; when she heard heavy sea boot footfalls in a familiar clunk approach her. Instantly she snapped out of her daze; _Damn._

She glanced over her shoulder ever so slightly and yes… there he was. _Bugger_.

"Good morning tart, did ye sleep well?" Jack asked as he moved closer. He'd been searching the ship for her after he left Drake's quarters, but when he asked around no one had seen the woman after she'd retreated in her cabin a few hours ago. He'd given up on the idea of talking to her, since he didn't want to barge into her cabin – if he'd be able to find it without asking for directions that was- , when he spotted her on deck. Jack was smoking the cigarillo he had taken from Drake's cigar box the night before. Devon just stood there on the prow, not moving, hair tousled, swollen eyes, and – _Are those tears? - _ignoring him. She just stood there motionless, holding on to the rail like she was afraid she'd topple over if she let go of it. Her knuckles had long since turned white and her hands were trembling from the pressure. _What's going on here?_

"Luv? I asked ye a question." he said, moving a bit closer, exhaling the smoke from his lungs. "Did ye sleep well?"

"Nay, I didn't sleep Jack." she mumbled with her view still focussed on something distant. Her voice was little over a whisper and he really had to concentrate hard to make out the words. All the things she had learned that night were whirling around in her mind. It was hard to act as if nothing was going on when her whole world had just been tossed upside down.

He moved next to her trying to get a better look at her_. Good God, she looks horrible!_

"Ye still thinking about that markin'?"

It took her a few moments to register he was talking to her again. After a while she finally responded with "eh?"

"Tha' brand on yer hip." he said pointedly staring at her hip.

"That brand be the least o' me problems. Trust me on that..." she chuckled bitterly. "I'll figure that one out in due time..."

He stood behind her his arms on either side of hers holding the rail. "What's wrong tart? Ye look awful." he husked into her ear, nuzzling her hair.

"Nothin' Jack. There's nothin' wrong." She turned around in an attempt to wiggle out of his 'embrace' but failed, since he only pressed his body closer to hers. _Move Jack. Please just move!_

But Sparrow didn't move or give a quarter. He forced her to listen to him. "Ye keep sayin' that. Yet... I don't believe ye, luv. It takes a good liar to spot a bad one." he smiled. "Ye're a brilliant pirate darlin', a remarkable shot, 'n ye 'ave a lovely singing voice, but ye're an awful liar. It be due time ye learn ye can trust me, Devon. I can be trustworthy, trust me. So tell me what's goin' on. What's goin' on in that worried little head o' yers, eh?" he said slowly caressing her bottom lip with his thumb. Her lip trembled under his delicate caress. "Ye see, somehow I find meself under the impression yer avoiding me. Deliberately," He struck a cord he knew, because she avoided his eyes. "intentionally… calculatedly... on purpose. So tell me what's goin' on." He looked at her, attempting to read her emotions but when all he saw was hollowness in her gaze he pleaded "Tell me, Devon, please…"

_I should tell him, right? __"_Aye, Vonnie." came her fathers warm brass voice. "Ye need to tell him now, dear. He needs to know the truth, he has a right to know." _I know da', but I can't bring meself ta tell him. I can't. I'm sorry._

She turned herself around again, forcing him to back away from her "Jack, this is all getting' far too complicated. I've ne'er been in such a situation before an' I don't want me mates ta find out that we've been intimate."

His eyes narrowed to slits "Been? What d'ye mean _been_?! I have every intention o' gettin' and remainin' very intimate with ye, darling. Startin' comin' nightfall' he husked as he pulled her closer to him by her belt. 'Or right now fer that matter… c'mere."

"Jack please…" she breathed, half command, half plea, taking a few steps back and averting her eyes. It was so hard to do, because deep down all she desires is to lean against him, bury her face in his blouse, wind her hands trough his unruly mane and turn the tide. But she can't.

"Don't. This is not the time nor the place."

"So it _is_ that yer havin' second thoughts." he whispered. His voice sounded different to her somehow. It was almost as if she could discern a hint of pain in the layers of his timbre.

"No! No Jack, I'm not havin' second thoughts Jack. My feelin's haven't changed; it's just gettin' too complicated for me. I need some space."

"Very well. Then define space." he demanded, releasing her belt and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Are we talking about several square meters? Yards? What space?"

"Time." she said softly. "It's time I be needin'. Time ta get me thoughts aligned."

"And ye can't do that in me bed?' he offered. "We align rather nicely together, do we not?"

"No Jack, I can't." _I want to, Jack. I just want to lie against you and watch you sleep. Play with your braids, close my eyes and forget about this nightmare… But I can't... I can't…_

"On me desk then?"

She sighed shaking her head. "Jack, really..."

"Very well then, let me think. Aha… well me precious pirate lass, it jus' so happens I know the perfect spot fer ye to do yer thinkin'." Jack said flashing her one of his most devious golden grins.

"An' just where might tha' be, Jack? Chained ta the bars in yer brig wearing naught but me smile?" she said agitatedly, though her voice was lined with sarcasm. She really didn't need this playfulness of his now. There were serious matters at hand. Very serious matters indeed.

"Don't be silly luv, ye hardly ever smile." he said briefly grazing the tender flesh of her collar with his lips. "Why is it ye don't want to play with me, luv?" he breathed against her ear.

"_Oh stop it Jack, don't make this even harder for me." _she thought feeling his lips brush against her ear.

When no response came, he continued trying to persuade her.

"Ye see darlin', I'd like for us ta spend a litt'l more time alone together… tonight we'll hardly 'ave the time, with the ceremony 'n all. I'm goin' ta get the _Pearl_, ye're welcome ta come with me when ye want, so ye an' I can catch up on things." The intonation of the words CATCH and UP made clear his intentions. Maybe it truly was just the sex that bonded them, she thought, and they both had been fooling themselves from the beginning on. What else could there possibly be? It must have been just the carnal attraction, no more than that, she told herself firmly. That aside, they both had reputations that weren't something to base any kind of relationship on. Regardless of how they might feel now, regardless of how intoxicating a man he was. They had no future. It must have been the sex, she tells herself over and over. The raw, untamed, hedonistic, addictive, carnal, magnificent sex. But lately Devon didn't feel like having sex, she hadn't been up to it for days and finding out about her unwanted pregnancy certainly didn't help her libido very much either. It wasn't just the sex, she knew in her heart of hearts it was more. Way more. More then she'd bargained for. She loved the man. And right now all she wanted was to be held; cradled. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and tell her that her visit to Cooper had been a bad dream. _If this is a dream, please in the name o' all things holy, wake me the Hell up!! _

She looked into his eyes and swallowed "I'm sorry Jack, but I've just gott'n back 'ere, ye can't very well ask me ta leave again so soon. Ye can get yer Pearl and then we'll have that talk when ye get back, what say ye ta that?" with all strength and willpower left in her, she mustered a small smile, despite her anguish.

"I'd like that. I'd like that very much indeed, however talkin' s not what I intended, luv." he said in a husk voice, twirling his moustache.

Oh that voice, that deep velvety voice could make her knees buckle, make her become unglued instantly and make her forget all her resolutions. He scared her. He scared the living daylights out of her this very minute. As tender as he was, he was also dangerous. Very very dangerous. For he'd made her care about him and be careless about herself. _Damn him!_ She resented him for having such an effect on her and she resented her self for having allowed him to.

Jack snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him. His mouth lingered inches away from hers and she could feel the warmth of his lips and smell his invigorating scent of rum, spices, old sweat and the tobacco of the cigar he had just smoked. It was so damn hard to resist. So hard not to give in.

He cupped her chin and made her look at him. "Can't I persuade you into coming along, luv? Surely…," he purred. "we can come to a satisfyin' agreement… you and I, I and you… I mean… I still have a great bottle o' rum in me cabin saved up fer us and I swear on me honor I'll have ye back in time fer yer initiation. In one piece even, rosy, an' jus' a little more relaxed an' perhaps a wee bit inebriated but not all that shall be the result of the rum, darlin'. That be a promise. Ye look tense luv." he husked while the fingers of his free hand slid along her shoulders to her nape; he knew tickling her there always calmed her. He couldn't recall when exactly it was he had found this out, but it was a true fact and perhaps it could serve him well this time, so he gently stroked her nape until she gasped and gooseflesh formed on her bare - rock hard - he felt, shoulders "Scratch that. Ye _are _tense. An' ole Jack knows just how ta fix that… Ye know I do…" And then, before Devon knew what hit her, his lips were on hers.

When Jack's lips released her own after a slow yet passionate kiss, Devon once again, was painfully aware of what existed between her and Jack. Something that she never thought could happen; had. Her mouth continued to search for his just as her hands wound through his locks, but her thoughts were further south. What she had once thought of as myth was now an evident truth that she could feel. She could feel the life that she held within her. Call it maternal instinct or maybe a sense of loathing for something she didn't want... but it was there; inescapably there. And she could no longer pretend she didn't know it existed anymore. All she cared for at this moment was the man who'd put her in this precarious situation in the first place. She should want to kill him for what he's done but she couldn't help but think about what it would mean. That, and it hadn't been some kind of Immaculate Conception, she'd been involved same as he. They both were to blame.

Would the man that was currently doodling figures on her arms with his ring-clad fingers stay around longer if he knew? Yes, she thought; if he'd know he'd stay with her or somehow remain a constant factor in her life. Their, she shuddered bitterly, life. But that would be the good side in him, the side that wasn't visible to the world all that much. The side of him that was overshadowed mostly by the conniving, lying, stealing, devious surface. Pirate or not Jack _was_ a man of honour and a gentleman and thus he'd stay involved and pay his dues. It wasn't like she was a harlot he had impregnated in a meaningless drunk night; they were involved in a relationship, as rickety, strange an unfathomable as it was. He cared about her, she knew that much. She knew instinctively that he wouldn't leave her if he knew she was carrying his child. He'd fulfil his duties as their bastards' father one way or the other, but he'd never stop feeling trapped or tricked. And he'd resent her for all eternity for getting him in a situation he didn't want to be in. Then again... he might still drop her like a hot coal and leave her in a heartbeat. Burn every memory - good or bad - they had shared as a proverbial bridge behind him and never look back. Devon knew in her heart of hearts that if the tables had been turned, she'd make a run for it. Hell, she'd even make a run for it now if she could. But she can't. This pregnancy was a noose she couldn't escape. Whatever the question was the man in front of her helped her get there ... She had lost control and now she had to pay the price. It was devastatingly clear to her that the life that they were both responsible for was not about to go away. Not on its own. And she still didn't know exactly what to do about that.

* * *

"Jack I-"

"Hmmmm?"

"I really should get goin' now someone'll see us an' we should avoid that."

His dark eyes flicked from her arms, to her eyes "I don't care who sees us luv. I'm past that stage since the helm incident. So stop bein' so fidgety 'n lemme get this off ye." he cooed as she was fighting him off and he was trying his very best to unbutton her - his, he realized proudly a flash later- shirt.

"Only if ye stop bein' such a complete 'n utter pain an' stop ta listen for once? Keep yer hands of me blouse!!" she snapped suddenly. "But – but it's mine!" he retorted pouting. Then he realized the sarcasm that had laced her voice was gone, so he took his hands away from her and waited. He silently waited for the volcano of her temper to erupt, he cringed beforehand, since he knew what was about to come.

"We're on MY ship!" she spat, "MY Captain doesn't know there's somethin' goin on 'tween ye and I and I 'ave every intention o' keepin' things that way. I don't want a living soul ta find out about us whilst we're on this venture, do I make meself clear, Captain Sparrow?"

"Inescapably." he said smiling charmingly. "But he already knows luv, so there really is no reason ta be secretive unless that turns ye on as well...'cause it sure works fer me." he said wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"He already knows?! Ye're not tellin' me ye've told him!!" Devon was aghast.

"Nay luv, I was just teasin' ye. Don't get yer knickers in a twist. Oh I forget - ye don't wear any." he stated, looking down at her breeches with a raised eyebrow. "There's really no need for either of us ta inform him, everyone knows no woman on earth can resist me masculine – yet endearingly boyish – charms." he had intended that to be a joke to lighten her mood a bit, but he realized it backfired on him when he saw the expression on her face darken. Devon's sense of humour was no where to be found.

Devon rolled her eyes "Watch me do so now!" she snapped as she turned and walked straight into Drake. _I loathe ye Jack Sparrow!_

"Capt'n!" she coughed out "Didn't see ye there."

Drake chuckled "I could tell."

"Walkin' away just proves me point, luv!" Jack shouted as he saw her continue her way.

"What point would that be, Sparrow?" Drake inquired.

"Never mind, I'll get back to her on that... bloody stubborn that woman is." Jack muttered.

"I know. She takes a lot of time to get used to." Drake said as they both watched her climb the rigging up to the crows nest.

"Don't think anyone will e'er get used ta her, look at the way she climbs that riggin' limber as a bloody cat I tell ye!" Jack said nudging Drake with his elbow. Although she didn't seem to be as limber as she'd been before... She was slower too now that he came to think about it. "Though of course since she's not a cat, or a member of the catlike species, she doesn't always land on her feet. She fell out o' a riggin' once, sailin' with me on that ship we commandeered, did I ever tell ye that?" Jack chuckled at the memories that drifted into his mind.

Drake cleared his throat "Captain Sparrow, I feel I should give ye a warning beforehand. Devon Duville is not a cat one can pick up without wearing gloves. Leather gloves at that. Her temper can be lethal, ye should be aware of that. Best stay on her good side or stay away from her all together." Drake said gravely, followed by a muttered "If ye still can..." He knew there was something going on between the piratess that served under his command and his old crewmate and he didn't like that one bit. Not that he was jealous, by all means no. A few years back he might have been, but he'd given up on the fact that Devon would someday feel more for him then respect, loyalty and friendship long ago. Plus she wasn't really his type; there was just something about her that had drawn him to her when they first met. But if she had feelings for Captain Sparrow and if those feelings were returned… Well, that could very well lead to her departure from the _Hazard_ and he didn't want to let go of Devon and her talents. She was too valuable an asset for his crew. That and she'd become too good a friend over the years that she'd served him. He couldn't bear to loose her, especially to Jack.

"No worries mate! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack said as if that statement would make him untouchable.

Drake chuckled, shaking his wigged head "Even if you were God or the Devil himself Jack, it won't matter much to Devon if you go against her will."

Jack looked at Drake "Then how dye Captain her? If ye order 'er somethin' she doesn't want ta do?" he asked.

Drake laughed "Oh, she doesn't take orders, she _grants_ them. Or I make it seem like she's granting them…"

"Stubborn." Jack said.

"Aye, like a mule, but too good a hand to afford to loose, I've learned how to mould her a bit over the years. Or I've learned how to handle that flarin" temper o' hers fer that matter…"

Both Captains looked up to the crows nest again; only to find it empty. Devon, for some reason, was no longer up there.

"Guess she's got that from "er father I mean after all he was one o' the most illu--."

"Oh bugger." Jack whispered to Drake when he heard a cracking of knuckles besides him.

"He was an illusionist. Aye that he was." Devon added angrily. If ye boys want ta gossip some more, by all means... be my guest, but remember ta choose yer words wisely or decide ta sleep with one eye open from now on. Perhaps ye could start a little chattin' group fer Capt'ns and do a bit o' needlework whilst ye gossip. Maybe embroider a little somethin' whilst ye chat? Make a quilt from yer false colours? Nice little pillows fer yer beds? Hmmmm?" she said sweetly. Jack and Drake shared a look but then suddenly the sweetness was replaced by venom as she roared "There's work ta be done 'ere fer cryin' out loud! Sometimes I really wonder if I 'ave ta do everythin' meself round 'ere. How in the name o' all things holy did ye manage without me Drake? Or did ye just stare blankly at the horizon waiting fer little elves to do the work while I was gone?"

Both men looked at her dumbfounded and then looked at each other. But Jack smiled when he heard the name of "Drake" being mentioned, thinking he was off the hook. "All right, I'll be off then. So's ye two can sort this out, eh?"

"Hold yer horses, there, Sparrow," Devon drawled. "Take a walk with me." then she turned to Drake and her voice changed "I've told DaCosta to inform Haydon that we'll be needin' that order ye placed before tomorrow. If he can't deliver all we'll just take whatever he's got in stock. We're low on powder and we'll be needin' a lot more balls too if ye want to sail out tomorrow. Ye agree?"

Drake nodded still at a loss for words and returned to his Quarters, shaking his head at Devon's antics. Then Devon took Jack by the arm. While Jack sighed in relief, Devon still raged with anger. Once they were out of hearing range she pinched him in the side, very forcefully.

"Ouch! What in the bloody 'ell was that for?"

"Fer bein an Ass, Capt'n!" she snapped. "Don't even know if ye earn that title, bein' the gossip that ye are. NO ONE, I repeat, NO ONE aboard this "ere ship knows me 'eritage Jack. NO ONE! And fer good reason! And ye were about ta bloody well tell Drake. Ye've jus' given me 'nough proof ta not trust ye, Jack. I know ye an' Drake formed an alliance, but I can tell ye this much; ye've broken ours. Whatever was between us. It all ends here 'n now." her eyes were ablaze with a cold fire.

"But Devon, ye should take pride in yer heritage. I don't know why ye make such a fuss out of it. Ye should wear yer family name with pride."

She shoved her index finger in his face suddenly, causing him to look at her cross-eyed "What I should be proud of, Captain Jack-ASS!" she spat. "Is of the fact that I ended this madness. Right here. Right now. Now if ye'll excuse me, I need to heave." She didn't mean for her words to be so harsh, but she panicked. She panicked and her stomach was disagreeing with her again.

She turned on her heel and made it to the rail just in time to feed the fish. After she'd wiped her mouth clean with her sleeve she was startled by his harsh voice.

"You … You infuriate me!" Jack spat at her.

"Not as much as ye do me, I'm sure! I loathe you!"

"I despise you," came his angry retort. "I just can't bear any more o' these mood swings o' yers! Fer goodness sakes get over yerself woman!"

"Ye're the one that needs ta get over himself. That shouldn't be so hard, since, I'm already over _you. _I can't even bear to be near you, you despicable excuse fer a Captain._" _her words were spiked with venom as she spat them out to him, her whole body trembled. She hated him. She really did hate him at this point.

He almost pulled his gun on her, his hands were itching, but something held him back. He knew the fact that he cared about her were the reason he couldn't pull the trigger. He more then cared about her, but he couldn't bear to be near her.

"Take that back you trollop!"

She swallowed down her anger and bit him one last line "The only thing I'll take back, pisser, is that I ever said I cared! Ye're not even man enough ta kill me!"

He saw the anger radiate in her eyes as he gritted his teeth in order to control himself. He hated her, her and her attitude. When he saw her stride off; he made way to the Pearl. The sooner he left her, the better. If he didn't leave now things were going to get even worse. As he walked off the gangplank he knew her outburst wasn't just because of the fact he'd mentioned her father…

* * *

A few hours later when Drake returned on deck, Devon was no where to be found. He'd knocked on her cabin doors but found them open without Devon inside. Her dog however, lay on her cot instead; snoring louder then several of men of his crew. He looked at the odd dog for a few moments but then he returned to deck and spotted Shredder.

"Have you seen our enchanting Miss. Duville, Mr. Shredder?"

Shredder looked up from the potatoes he was peeling "No Sir I 'haven't. Not since I've seen her talk to Captain Sparrow on the prow."

"When was that?" Drake questioned.

"I dunno sir... a good hour ago or somethin' the like. But ye can leave out the "enchanting". It never fit her, and it sure as Hell doesn't suit her now. They were in some kind o' argument. Ta put things mildly that is. Devon's moody." Shredder said.

Drake nodded. "I've noticed. An argument ye say?"

"Aye... shouting "n hand gestures no triggers were pulled though," Shredder said. "Sparrow almost pulled a gun at her. They're bloody pissed at the other fer some reason, couldn't hear what it was 'bout though…"

Drake's eyebrow rose ever so slightly. He had noticed how those two looked at each other and he assumed now that what he has seen had been correct. They were in love and their fight might have been a lover's quarrel. But when he thought about what Shredder had said just now. He'd said that Sparrow had nearly pulled his gun on her… It just didn't make sense. He'd never pictured Devon to be able to have feelings at al, especially _these_ kinds of feelings, but the look in her eyes when she glanced at Jack proved him right. If guns were pulled or not, there was something going on and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. "Well perhaps she's still on deck. I'll go check there myself. And do try not to make cubes out of those." Drake said pointing to the deformed potatoes in the bucket.

Shredder made a face when Drakes back was turned and muttered "Tis a woman's job anyways..."

* * *

After a while Drake spotted her on poop-deck, sitting on a stack of ropes toying with her flintlock. She was so confused, so scared. Her thoughts and emotions were like a whirlwind in her mind and she couldn't turn her thoughts off. Her pregnancy; her feelings for the baby's father... Jacks betrayal; her accusations. Everything was too much for her to bear. She'd told him why she didn't want others to find out she was Duncan Black's daughter, she told him that it was her decision to make and he'd betrayed her trust. Again.

Her fingers trembled a bit as she traced the engraving on the barrel. Drake noticed her unsteady hand and looked at her. He'd never once seen her hands tremble before.

"Duville, get yerself prepared; the ceremony starts at sunset." Drake's voice roused her from her thinking.

"Huh? Eh aye Sir."

"Are you alright Duville? You look a bit tense."

_Oh no, not ye also..._ She thought. Of course she _was_ tense, but who wouldn't be if they were in her position? "Just a bit anxious Sir. I'll go get ready now." and with that (under) statement she left her Captain and headed below decks.

On her way to her cabin, she passed sickbay. She stopped in front of the door and contemplated for a moment, but then quietly opened the door and slipped inside.

Stevens was in bed, a veil of sweat covering his brow. She couldn't get over the fact that he looked so much older then when she'd last seen him. She pulled up a chair and sat next to him. In a way it felt selfish to get initiated in the position she had wanted to fill ever since she had first boarded the Hazard, when she was given this opportunity only because of Stevens" illness. The very least she could do was thank him.

When she heard him mumble something she took his hand "What is it sweetie, do ye need anything?"

"Dee?" he moaned.

"Yes, yes it's me, Stevie."

"Taken yer pledge "n mark yet?" he murmured.

"No. I wanted ta come by you first. Ye know... ta say thanks and see how you're fairing." she said, caressing his face with her fingertips. Devon used to keep all the men aboard the Hazard at arms length to keep the upper hand, but now the female side underneath her carefully constructed exterior seeped through. She had to show her gratitude and prove him she cared.

"No need, ye…," he swallowed "deserve it."

Devon tried to pay no mind to the fluster that was undoubtedly showing on her cheeks and looked at Stevens" face again. He looked so much older since she'd last seen him. Fragile almost. The tall robust man seemed so much smaller in this bed. The big hands that used to be so strong now lay flaccid on the sheets. Devon bit her lip in a vain attempt to hide her concern. There was no need to show him how worried she was. She needed to be strong for him, even though she felt like crying.

"How are ye holdin" up then?"

"Livin" by the moment..." he whispered, closing his eyes again.

_It not like ye have any other choice, sweetie. _Devon looked at him "Is there anythin" I can do fer ye, Stevie? Anythin' at all?"

"Take yer pledge "n mark and make me proud…" He gestured his hands to the water basin and Devon filled him a cup. She gently brought it to his lips while she supported his head with her free hand. After he'd taken several small sips he continued "Ye're a good pirate, Dee. Ye're in it with yer heart, unlike me. Ye deserve it. So go now... Do me proud."

She quirked an eyebrow "Ye sure?"

Stevens closed his eyes again and Devon got up from her chair. She kissed him softly on the top of his head in gratitude "Thanks Stevie. I'll never forget this."

The man in the bed didn't respond and after a few moments of fighting her tears Devon made way to the door glancing over her shoulder once more.

_Pull through. Please pull through._

She blinked her eyes to get rid of the sting, taking a deep breath and retreated into her cabin.

* * *

"Hey Jack, where'd ye put the Devils Daughter?"

"Where she belongs." Jack said when he strode past his quartermaster.

"In Hell?" Gibbs couldn't help himself; the words had come out of his mouth without thinking.

Sparrow turned sharply on his heel, his face directly in Gibbs' "Nay, she's given'me Hell, but she's returned safely- like I promised - ta her righteous Captain."

"Glad ta say were rid o' her." Gibbs shuddered. _"As am I mate, as do I"_ Jack thought. "She did have her moments, but I'm glad that witch is gone."

Jack rolled his eyes "Gibbs, watch yer mouth. She's not a witch or anything the like." _though she certainly acts like one lately..._ he thought.

"Yet somehow she managed ta bewitch you, isn't that so Capt'n?" AnaMaria bluntly interrupted.

Jack glared at her warily. "There's work ta be done Ana, weigh anchor and I wanna see some action here pronto." Jack said as he strode into his quarters.

"Still in denial." she muttered. "Ye've got a headin" ye feel like sharing, Capt'n?" she shouted after him.

"Sail 'round the island, beware o' the reefs, there be an inlet on the northern side, _The Hazard_ is anchored there. Ye'll get further instructions once we reach it." Jack said.

"She found her ship then?" AnaMaria asked.

"Seems that way. Now carry out orders as you're told, Ana." Jack said, slamming his cabin doors shut.

"ALL HANDS ON DECK WEIGH ANCHOR AN" SKIM THE SAILS!! GET TA WORK SCABBAROUS DOGS!!" Ana roared.

* * *

Jack threw his hat on the table and let himself fall back on his bed. Putting his hands behind his head he let his thoughts run free. He was infuriated by her. He didn't know why she was so angry with him, but her mood had rubbed off on him. He was so angry at her right now. He knew something was ailing Devon and it wasn't just because he had almost told her Captain about her heritage. It was stupid of him, when he knew it was against her wish, but he hadn't meant any harm – well no more then just a little casual tormenting-, she had to know that he didn't mean to betray her trust. There had to be a reason for her foul mood. She'd been distant lately, distracted. Not to mention moody. Surely, he figured, it might have something to do with her pledge and mark tonight, but he'd thought she'd be thrilled about that. She didn't seem exited at all; more like something was worrying her. Something was weighing her down and now that he came to think about it, Devon hadn't been her chipper, annoying self for quite a while. Her mood could change in a heartbeat, in the blink of an eye even. She'd turn him on one moment and the next she'd give him the cold shoulder. Or she'd want him to hold her in his arms and then resolutely shove him away the next second. Or shout at him for absolutely no good reason at all, like she'd done earlier. Either the woman had finally gone completely round the bend, or something else was bothering her.

As the word she'd spoken on deck sank in to him, he frowned; did she break up with him? Did she actually tell him she wanted to end whatever was between them? She hadn't wanted to play with him lately either. The last time they'd had a little fun together had been in the inn and then she had acted a bit strangely he recalled. When he visualized their lovemaking in his mind his brow furrowed; it had been different from their usual little romps. It had been good; it was always good. But somehow Devon had been a little lazier in her lovemaking. He'd been the one in control and although he always liked that before, he adored Devon in a dominant role. She'd always find new ways to arouse him; to satisfy him… them. But the last time, which indeed had been far too long ago, she'd been relatively passive… like the fire inside her had died somehow. Yet ironically the fire inside her raging temper wouldn't subside. The woman truly could be a pest. And right now he just could near about strangle her for her behaviour.

He shoved those thoughts away for the moment, thinking about her naked body without having her near, didn't do him any good now. What would do him good, was finding that bottle of rum. He reached under his bed and found the bottle he had told Devon about. If she didn't want to spend time with him, it was her loss really. He'd have a splendidly good time all by himself. _More rum fer Jack!_ He uncapped the bottle with one hand and took a long swig. Bloody nuisance. See if he cared. She should be grateful he'd give her the light of day with that attitude of hers! There were plenty of fish in the sea, prettier ones even. Willing fish, fish without attitude problems. Fish that weren't armed. He was getting a bit worried about that, truth be told. With that temper of hers it was rather hazardous to have a battle of wills when she was armed tot the lips. Next time he'd find himself a lass that collected antiques instead of arsenal. _A lot safer too_. Oh and maybe a mute. Perhaps Cotton would have a cute little niece… he pondered. It would truly be a blessing to spend time with a woman horizontally that wouldn't talk back. Or bite back for that matter.

_Aaaaah that__'s darn good rum, Devon, ye missed out on something darlin" _DARLIN?? Why in the blazes was he calling her that? _– That would be because you DO care, Jack._

When he gave Devon's recent behaviour more thought, he got even angrier. The more time passed, and the more rum he drowned the angrier he got. It was too complicated, she was too complicated. He hated her, hated having met her, hated the fact that he'd fallen in love with her. He took another swig and decided this situation needed to be taken care of. With rum. And lots and lots of it.

"Gibbs, take the helm, I need ta have word with the Capt'n." Ana shouted over to Gibbs, who was working the shrouds.

"Aye." Gibbs said "Gimme a moment ta finish this."

A few moments later, Gibbs was behind the wheel and Ana Maria's knuckles drummed upon the doors of her Captain's cabin.

"Captain?"

"I'm here, come in Ana." came a slur from the other side of the doors.

Jack didn't bother getting up from the bed, he couldn't put his finger on Devon's mood and that didn't improve his very much either. He was positively raging with anger and getting very drunk at the same time. He lifted the bottle up to his mouth again and took several large gulps.

"Are we ta sail together with _The Hazard_?" Ana quirked. When she took a closer look at her Captain she frowned "Are you drunk?"

"Aye." he slurred, not bothering to give her further information.

AnaMaria noticed Jack's frown. He was angry. "Aye to the sailing with the Hazard or aye to the you bein' drunk?"

"Both." he stated flatly, and took another swig. His taste buds didn't even register the essence of the rum anymore, not that he actually minded that this time. All he needed was the effect the rum caused; feeling numb and invincible at the same time.

"What happened, Capt'n?" Ana asked. "Did the two of ye have a spat again?"

Jack took another swig from his bottle "is there ever a time when we don't have a _spat_ of some sort? The woman is a pain in the rear I tell ye. She…" he gulped down the rest of the bottle's content and then angrily tossed it into a corner. Glass splintered and scattered across the room. His jaw set in a straight line as he stared at the remains. Ana winced when she heard the bottle shatter. She suspected that Devon and Jack might have had a bigger fight then he wanted to lead on.

"She made first mate." Jack said, eerily calm all of a sudden. A bit too damn calm for Ana Maria's liking and way too calm for his current state judging by his drinking. This calmness wasn't promising anything good. His behaviour suddenly was the complete opposite of his earlier conduct.

Ana frowned "She did? Well that's great! Then why the foul mood?"

"I offered her a position on the Pearl. A job, a good one - nothing sexual - thought that of course would've been negotiable." he slurred again, gesturing with his hands. "I offered her the position of master gunner, but she turned me down." he said, getting up from the bed and rummaging through his cupboards in search for more rum. "Turned the job down that is." he corrected, swaggering from cupboard to shelf and vice versa.

"Wise thing ta do. Don't think it would be healthy havin' 'er aboard fer a longer span of time, Sir. She's my friend an' I really care 'bouts her, but the way ye two act around each other isn't very healthy. Ta anyone for that matter. We never know if yer gonna kiss or kill each other…" Ana said.

"Well", Jack said with an angry frown "Lately the killin" seems favourable believe me… AHHHH There ye are!!" His face lit up when he found another bottle. It wasn't the quality of the first one, but it would serve its purpose. He uncorked it with remarkable speed and took a large mouthful.

"Is that why ye came back alone?" Ana asked. Jack swaggered across the room the bottle in his hand, while he was waving about with the other.

"_This can't be good._" Ana thought. She'd seen her Captain drunk on various occasions, but when he was drunk after a fit with Devon, the alcohol didn't quite go down the right way. Same went for Devon but hail to Moses and Mary she didn't have to witness that.

"Yup." He said snorting "Says she be needin' time ta think. Well let me tell you, if ye let a woman think, nothing good can come o' it. Instead o' telling me what ails her, she demands I give 'er time. Bloody nuisance! Needs ta think!" he snorted "She ain't a thinker; she's a do-er. She doesn't need ta think! Women don't need ta think! Follow a bloody order, that's what they should do!"

AnaMaria glared at him and when Jack noticed he shrugged "No not you! Ye're different, ye're relia-… ye're reliable – that's the word. The tart is just…" his hands curled into fists, leaving his knuckles almost white. "…she's just too much for me to take." He gulped down some more rum and he couldn't even taste it anymore. _Why just why does she always have to act this way?_

"And yet ye can't get enough of her, am I right?" Ana said relishing Jacks candidness.

"Don't push yer luck Ana." Jack groaned. "Get back to work!"

Ana looked at her Captain "I shall do so. In a minute. But as long as I'm standing here I'm going to add me two cents, Captain. Permitted or not. If ye love her, like I know ye do, and she loves you, like I know she does, the two o' ye need ta fight fer the cause o' that love; not keep fighting each other."

And with that, she left a dumbfounded Jack behind.

T.B.C.


	35. Allegiance

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything that belongs to the Mouse. Sad isn't it?_

_When allegiance asks the questions_

_Old freedom twists and turns_

_And chokes on codes of honour_

_On the sword of no return_

_-_

_And it's the curse of the traveller_

_The curse of the traveller_

_Got a hold of me_

_And it won't let you be_

_-_

_Curse of the Travel__ler-__Chris Rea_

* * *

**Chapter 35**

**Allegiance **

As the sun turned a deeper shade of orange and the water reflected in flashes of oranges and pinks inside of the cave the deck of _The Hazard_ looked as spotless as if the ship had just been baptized. If not for the darker spots on the wood, where blood had been spilt, one would think it was this particular vessel's first day on the waters. Captain Isaac Drake had been very specific on his orders.

The deck had to be spotless; nothing short of perfection would do tonight. Devon deserved perfection. Well, as much perfection as he could possibly offer. She'd been through enough lately, she deserved a bit of silver lining, he mused.

He knew Devon really didn't care much for ceremony or tidiness. He grinned to himself, he knew her well enough by now. She'd be perfectly happy to just waltz into his chambers, grab his quill and sign where her signature was needed and that would be the end of it. There was no need for embellishments for as long as Devon was concerned. Well, that might be her opinion and she was entitled to her own view, of course.

But tonight he wouldn't stand for that. Not on this night. It was – after all - his ship and so long as he was Captain and for as long as she served under his command, perfection was what she would get. On deck of_ The Hazard_ all of the preparations had been made. The deck was mopped, ropes had been stacked tidily, and all the male members of the _Hazard's_ crew were on pins and needles. The ship's Captain Isaac Drake paced his quarters in anticipation of what was going to take place that evening.

His emotions were mixed. At one side he was concerned for Stevens' well-being and on the other side he was glad and proud that he could finally offer Devon the promotion he knew she deserved. But mostly he was so glad she was back with them. As angry as she could make him at times; the ship and the crew weren't the same without her. The only thing that had him worried - besides the condition Stevens was in - was that, if she did fill the position of first mate, they would be forced to work together closely. Devon would have to become his right hand. His brows furrowed as he took a sip from his whiskey. That might become a problem in the future, he thought. As good a pirate she might be, he knew she was also headstrong and opinionated. She was passionate about things she thought mattered and she had a bit of a short fuse. He remembered the times he had tremendous trouble getting her to take his orders, because she didn't agree. But luckily he himself had a calm nature, so he wouldn't get drawn into one of her tantrums very easily. But, he sighed, that was something he could worry about in the future. Right now she needed to take her pledge and mark and then a celebration was what this crew needed after all these months filled with worry. He finished his whiskey in one long swig, adjusted his collar in the mirror, and stepped outside of his quarters. His eyes roamed the deck for Devon and when he saw her on his right he smiled.

Devon was dressed in full attire. She had rimmed her eyes with kohl and her dark curly hair was tied back in a loose ponytail with a strap of leather. She was fully armed and had found another vest to wear. It wasn't made of leather, since Jack had torn her favourite leather one to shreds on the night he had saved her life. Or to be more specific; her favourite black leather vest had been cut into pieces on the night he had saved her life... _again_, she corrected herself

The vest she wore on this special night was made of black velvet although it had seen better days. The lining was frayed and the seams were a bit torn. Yet, the fabric was such high quality that -to a pirate girl - it still looked respectable and Devon was proud she could wear it.

She had dug it up in the trunk in her cabin. It had been her fathers, so it was a little too big for her, but with two belts tied around her waist it would do just fine. She could still smell her father on the vest trough the stale smell the fabric held from being stored away for so long. Maybe she was just being sentimental, but for some strange reason, it eased her nerves a little bit.

She looked to her side and her eyes met Drake's and he winked at her. Devon gave her Captain one of her famous smiles, despite how she felt inside. When he saw her smile he smiled in return and then he addressed the crowd. 'Your attention please gents!' Isaac Drake shouted as the crew of the Hazard assembled themselves a bit more orderly on the deck. Devon looked around and she saw all her mates standing in front of her. Everyone, but Stevens, was present. Her eyes met DaCosta's for a brief moment and he smiled at her. _Ye're such a sweet boy._ She thought when she noticed the anticipation that was etched on his face. _Ye're sweet, but a bit too sweet for my likin'. I'm no good fer ye boy… find yerself a sweet lass to come home to._

'We are gathered here tonight to initiate Miss. Devon Duville in the position of first mate' He glanced at Devon who stood beside him. She still looked a bit nervous to him. Devon fidgeted with the buckle on one of her belts and she hated the fact that she couldn't fully hide her anxiety.

Bullet, her little black and whit French Bulldog, was sitting right beside her; next to her boots. Loyal as always. Devon felt uncomfortable to look at her crewmates at this moment. After all, her future career was in their grimy hands. She was afraid they might have changed their minds overnight. To calm her nerves a bit more, she fidgeted with the 'bracelet' Jack had given her. She felt the tress of his hair with her fingertips and gooseflesh started forming on her arms. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. Although she thought she had made the right decision she missed him already. _Sentimental goose!_

The voice of her Captain broke her trail of thoughts. 'All apposed raise thy hands' Drake demanded. Devon closed her eyes and held her breath. For a few moments the deck was eerily silent and one could have heard a needle drop on the planks. The only sound Devon could hear was her own heartbeat and it pounded so loudly she was afraid everyone aboard _The Hazard_ could hear it.

After Drake asked the question not a single hand rose and Drake smiled contently. The ballot vote had already told him every mate had faith in Devon's qualities, but he had to ask officially and there still was a chance – slim as it was – that some of his men had changed their minds overnight. As unusual for a woman it was to work on a ship, it was even more remarkable when said woman became first mate. But Devon had proven her salt from day one and she had never given anyone any reason to doubt her ability.

'All in favor raise thy hands' he continued he added a bit more emotion to this second question since he already knew the answer.

'Very well then' he said looking at the hands of all his men raised and waving in the air 'It's settled. Devon Duville, do ye accept the position offered to you and the duties and responsibilities that come with it?'

Devon finally opened her eyes again and saw hands drop and a couple of dozen eyes stare at her expectantly.

'Aye. I do', was her solemn reply. Several cheers were heard, but before the crew could applaud Drake turned to his men.

'Silence!!' he shouted. When the commotion on deck continued he barked 'Silence men!! I want silence from you!'

When the men finally silenced he motioned DaCosta to come closer to him. The assistant gunner approached Devon and his Captain carrying the chest. The chest every crewmember aboard The Hazard had seen when they came aboard the ship. For some of the men it had been years since they had seen the chest. For DaCosta it had been 3 years. It weighed heavy in his hands, but he felt proud that his Captain had chosen him to hand the chest to him on Devon's ceremony. His hands trembled as he handed the box over to Drake.

Devon looked at her Captain as he took out the parchment from the richly ornate chest DaCosta had handed him. She had only once seen that chest before and that was when she had signed on to the Hazards crew all those years back. She knew all the articles by heart and she knew she wanted this position even more than she had wanted to become a crew member on this ship.

'Since you already know the articles I just need you to mark them, Devon' Drake said, knowing he was right about her. When she came aboard she had known everything there was to know about the code. When he had inquired as to how she got her knowledge she had told him she'd studied the code. Now that he came to think about it, that _was_ rather odd. Why didn't he question her further back then? He wondered. It had been almost a decade ago since he signed her on and now was the moment he questioned the fact that she knew so much… he looked at her and when she looked up to him her blue eyes broke him out of his reverie. He shook his head; he needed to concentrate on the task ahead. 'So, Miss Duville' he asked seriously. 'Do ye mark all the articles listed?'

'Aye, I do' Devon replied. 'Although I don't rightly know why ye stand on ceremony when ye already know I'll accept, Captain'

'I shall need silence from you know Miss Duville. I want this ceremony to go according to the Code, therefore you shall speak only when I need you to, do I make myself clear!' Drake snapped.

Devon winced at Drakes outburst. 'Crystal clear, Sir!'

'Good. Hand me the log, Mr. Cooper' Drake spoke, holding out the parchment with the Code so Cooper could exchange it with the log.

Martin Cooper appeared with the Captain's log and as he handed it to Drake, he looked at Devon, trying to console her, but Devon averted her eyes to the floorboards instead.

'Again I ask you Miss Duville: Do you pledge allegiance to my flag, the Code as you know it and mark all articles listed?'

'Aye, sir, I do'

'Splendid. Then by the powers vested in me as Captain of _The Hazard_, I hereby name Miss Devon Duville first mate aboard _The Hazard_. This however will not affect her position as Master Gunner aboard this fine vessel. Do you accept these terms Miss Duville?'

Devon smiled 'Ye know my answer Sir'

'Do it properly Duville. Do you accept the terms, benefits, obligations and limitations that come with this job?'

Devon sighed 'Aye, Sir. I accept!'

'Let us proceed to the final act, Mr. Cooper'

Martin Cooper nodded curtly and took the silver needle from the chest. He held it above the flame of the candle DaCosta had lit at the beginning of the ceremony. When it seemed the right moment, he removed the needle tip from the flame and cooled it in the basin with seawater Drake held. At the same moment DaCosta blew out the flame and placed the candle next to the chest. Cooper then took Devon's right hand in his own, took her index finger and pricked it with the needle. A tiny droplet of crimson formed on the tip of her finger and it glistened in the shimmering glow of the setting sun.

Devon looked at her Captain and then pressed her index finger next to her name on the ledger in the log. It was on a different page now, she noticed, right underneath Stevens' fingerprint and signature. 'First Mate'. She added more pressure to her finger and then redrew her hand. She put her finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding and when she tasted the coppery taste of her blood she couldn't help but think about Jack again. He'd made her blood boil again today and despite her feelings for him, she knew she'd done the right thing. Or at least she kept telling herself that.

'Gents meet your new First Mate' Drake said proudly as he turned Devon around by putting his arm around her shoulders and finally all the men let out their cheers.

'I need you to sign it in my quarters later. In proper blue ink that is' Drake said as he handed the still open log back to DaCosta. 'Place it in my quarters on my desk if you will Mr. DaCosta'

'Aye Sir' the latter spoke as he turned to the Captains chambers.

'Open the barrels!!' Drake shouted and even more cheers arose from the crew.

Devon cocked an eyebrow 'The Barrels Sir? Ye think it wise ta open the barrels when we sail out tomorrow?'

Drake smiled in return 'Not the rum barrels, Duville. Grog.'

'Oh' she pouted obviously disappointed as she saw her crewmates raise their tin cups. 'Grog… jus' grog…'

'Grog indeed Duville. But it would have been rum at any other time'

'Now that's a solace. Initiate me 'gain when we e'er dock at Tortuga. So I can thoroughly enjoy meself' she snorted.

Drake shook his blonde wigged head and laughed, patting her on her shoulders 'You are without a doubt one o' the strangest women I've ever met, but I consider meself the luckiest Captain ta sail the seven seas, havin' you aboard'

Devon smiled in return; hearing her Captain say these words meant so much to her and it made her heart swell with pride.

'And ye _should_', came Jacks garbled voice from behind them. Devon winced as she heard him come closer. 'If she weren't this loyal ta you 'n yer ship, I'd 'ave shanghaied her over ta the _Pearl_ in the blink of an eye'

'Good thing she knows where she stands then, eh Jack?' Drake retorted. He couldn't help but feel a sting at his old friends' words.

'Good for you, yes!' Jack sneered raising his cup to his lips. 'Congratulations, Duville! Cheers to ye! And my sincere congratulations to you Captain Drake'

When Jack looked over the rim of his cup, Devon was nowhere to be found.

TBC

A note from me:

I know it took me ages to post this chapter and I bow my head in shame. I was stuck in a major case of writers block and it took forever to start writing again. I am currently wrecking my brain over the next chapter, since it contains a rather difficult scene to write. I've already re-written it several times, but it's still not ready to be posted. I'll do my best to get it uploaded as soon as I can, but I could use a little encouragement... I'll reply to all the reviewers of this chapter once I get your reviews. On the last chapter I've had some eye-opening positive critisism and now I know what I need to focus and work on. I really took that advice to heart. I hope he/she knows who I'm talking about! You're review was greatly appreciated. All your reviews are by the way.. so keep them coming if only to let me know you are still interested in reading this tale...

Love you all,

Angela


	36. Doors

**Ilse DeLange - When We Don't Talk**

The silence that's fallen between us  
is the loneliest sound that I've heard  
How can we find forgiveness  
If we can't find the words

When we don't talk  
When we don't speak  
When we don't share all the feelings  
That are buried so deep  
How can we know  
What's hidden behind those walls  
When the door's locked  
When we lose touch  
When you and I lose sight of us  
The honesty's lost  
And the tears say it all  
When we don't talk

When so much goes unspoken  
and sorry is left unsaid  
The silence remains unbroken  
and our hearts are breaking instead

**

* * *

**

Chapter 36 

**-Doors-**

Whilst on the deck of _The Hazard _the celebration continued, Devon and her dog were down in the armory; her safe haven. Hearing Jack's voice had scared her to the bone. His voice had rattled her into the core of her being - the very center of her soul. Hearing the deep timbre of his weathered voice had instantly made her regret the choice she thought she had made. She did not know what to say or how to react; she knew it was foolish to pretend she didn't care about him any longer. Jack could see right through her. She should have known he always had. He was a lot smarter then she gave him credit for.

She tensely bit her lip as she moved forward. The only thing left for her to do was flee. Cowardly, she knew. In addition, she loathed herself for hiding from him, but she had to. There was no other choice. Well there _was_ another choice. There _always_ was another alternative, she was well aware of that fact, but she didn't want to think about that particular option. Again, the most cowardly thing to do - she realized - but Hell only knew she wasn't as brave as she pretended to be. No woman on earth could be that brave when her heart was concerned.

Devon had snatched a bottle of rum from the stash in the hold on her way down and she was contemplating whether she should drink it. Hearing and seeing Jack again, after what happened earlier that day, was simply too much for her to handle. She knew in her heart of hearts she would never be able to cut him out of her life so long as they were on this venture together. She wasn't even sure if she'd ever be able to get him out of her heart. She didn't even recognize herself anymore. She was supposed to be the fuck around, she thought bitterly. The happy lay, the conqueror and the leaver. Captain Jack Sparrow had changed her. She could hear Isaac Drake's voice in the back of her mind echoing over and over again… the words he'd spoken to her on the night she had met Jack all those months ago in that bar in Tortug_a __'Someday you'll find a man tha' ye don't want ta let go o' Dee. Ye know that's bound ta happen someday. Wouldn't ye like ta have a child one day?'_ She shuddered at the recollection of her Captain's spoken words. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined something like that would be a possibility. Devon had always told herself man and woman couldn't find soul mates. She snorted to herself laughing cynically. "Soul mate" was a word that was made up by hopeless romantics who had no better to do with their time. Monogamy was just a meaningless word in the dictionary. Monogamy was nothing more then an illusion. But now, she _had_ found a man she didn't want to let go of, she _had _found her soul mate – as much as she hated him at this point in time, she knew he was just that – her soul mate. Her match. She was carrying his child and yet she had told that man to go to hell.

Yet, ironically, she'd happily dive in to Lucifer's deepest, darkest pits of Hell to save him if he'd ever find him self in danger. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. _What've I done? _She uncorked the bottle with unsteady hands and held the bottleneck under her nose. The spiced scent of the strong liquor tickled her nostrils and she inhaled the essence deeply. What she needed right now was a stiff drink and become numb. Scars and wounds didn't compare to the pain she felt inside right now. No pain compared to the pain Jack Sparrow had caused her. _Well here's ta you Capt'n Jack Sparrow, thanks ever so much for coming in me life!_

When she slowly raised the bottle to her lips, she heard the door behind her rattle in its hinges. Her heart jumped in her throat and she'd almost dropped her precious bottle. She knew it was him; her heartbeat told her that.

'I know ye're in there tart. Open the door'

'Go fuck yourself Jack, leave me alone'

'I'd do that if I could believe me, but me old back won't bend so smoothly anymore. Besides it feels so much better if you do it…' he slurred against the door, but his eyes were radiating fire at the wood that prevented him from seeing her.

Devon shouted 'Leave me the Hell alone Jack! Go an' find a whore that'll do the job. We're done'

Jack drowned the cup's contents in one gulp and then tossed the cup away 'No you stubborn, egotistical brat, we are most definitely NOT done. And I don't want a bloody whore. Isn't it obvious that what I want is on the other side o' this damned door?'

'Gunpowder. That be what ye're wantin', Jack?' Devon growled.

'Damnit, woman, I want _you_! And don't tell me ye don't feel the same. I know that's a lie! You're going to let me in this very instant 'n then ye an' I are going to have a talk, missy. I don't know what the Hell has gott'n into you but you can't very well shut me out'.

Devon couldn't help herself. She simply couldn't fight her tears any longer and before she even realized it, the salty droplets were making their way down her face. Devon registered somewhere between her own sobs, that despite the slur, Jack's speech was strong. Somehow, it reminded her of when he'd saved her from the noose in Port Royal. The first time he had saved her life and the first time he had lectured her 'Go away Jack, please. Jus' go away. I can't do this, please… just go'

'I'm not goin' anywhere unless ye let me in' he countered. He was determined to get himself on the other side of that god damned door so he could be face to face with her. She really had a lot of nerve telling him to get lost. He had wanted to celebrate her promotion with her, despite the fact that he was still mad at her. And perhaps steal a kiss in the process, since he had intended to win her over again. Ana Maria's two cents had really put things in perspective for him. Now he only had to find out her true feelings. He needed to know if she was truly meant for him.

However, in order to put his plan into action he needed to be near her. He only problem he had to face now was that he found himself on the wrong side of the door and on the wrong side of her anger. She was telling him to go away. She was telling _him_ the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow to get lost.

'Are ye drunk, Jack?' Devon snarled suddenly, as she moved closer toward the door.

'I might be. Then again, I might be not. However the case may be I don't believe I need to explain myself to you' he spat back.

'So ye are. Why else would ye be 'ere?'

'If I'm drunk or not is not the issue. What _is_ the issue is that you obviously feel the need to end whatever there is between us – whatever there is that hasn't even really started yet might I add - and I will not stand fer that. There is something between us, Devon. You know there is. Something ties us. We're so alike you and I. Kindred spirits we are, free spirits… Devon, I just cannot stand back and let you end it'

Devon stood on the other side of the door. One hand touching the rough wood and the bottle clenched in her other hand. Here he was saying the words she longed to hear, but she found herself fighting him again. 'Ye don't understand, Jack. We're no good for each other. We're not the kind to be tied down in a relationship in whatever shape or form. Just _because_ we're so alike.' She sobbed between the words and resented herself for it. She needed to be strong, keep her foot down. She needed to end whatever there was between them and continue their relationship in a strict professional manner, but instead… Instead, she stood there, on trembling feet, feeling nauseous again and sobbing with the bottle of rum still clenched in her unsteady hands. God how she loathed herself at this point. If she wasn't sick to her stomach already, she'd be really sick of herself.

'Are you crying luv?' Jack inquired, pressing his ear to the door in order to hear her better.

'That be none of yer concern, Captain'

'It IS of my concern Devon, don't ye see? Our pasts have made us what we are and because of me past I can compare ye to a lot of women-'

He was cut off by her angry retort 'Well that's very comfortin' Jack, really I feel much better now'

'Well, pot calling the kettle I believe Devon, you're no blushing virgin either so I believe you can compare me to a whole lot of others too and jus' because of that comparison ye have to agree with me when I say that you 'n I were destined to meet. And I know that you also agree with me when I say we have something special. Damn it woman, ye made me care. Ye actually made me care about you and ye can't shut me out Devon. Not when I know for a fact you feel the same way!'

Devon bit her lip and still fought with the annoying stream of tears that continued their way down her glowing cheeks.

'I need some space Jack' she managed to cough out.

He forcefully kicked his boot into the hard wood of the door 'Why? Why do ye need space? Why Devon?'

Devon rose the bottle to her lips, but her trembling hands couldn't hold the bottle steady so the rum streamed down her collar instead of in her mouth.

'I can't tell you why, all I can tell ye is that we need to keep our relationship strictly professional for a while. Please understand Jack. It has nothin' ta do with you.'

Jack's heart lurched because he could guess why she couldn't tell him. Then his anger toward her riled up again. _No woman turns down Captain Jack Sparrow without good reason. No woman turns down Captain Jack Sparrow period!_ 'Devon darlin' let me in' he cooed sweetly. He figured he could try to sweet-talk himself in and then force an explanation from her, but when no response was given, he barked at her 'Open the goddamn door NOW Duville, else ye force me ta shoot the lock!'

He took out his pistol and cocked the safety. When Devon heard the click she set the bottle down and unbolted the door, knowing he would really fire if she kept it shut. She knew Jack and her really were a lot alike in that regard also.

'All right Jack, ye win...' Devon sighed. Her heart was heavy. She knew she wouldn't be able to ignore him or really end it with him regardless of how hard she tried. She was in way over her head, she was in too deep. But by letting Jack Sparrow come through the door she knew she would only make things harder for herself.

'Come in... .' she said, unlocking the door and stepping aside. When he strolled past her she picked up the spiced scent of rum, but she could not bring herself to look at him.

'I hate talkin' to doors' Jack said flatly, as he locked the safety on his pistol again.

'I think them most convenient at times' Devon whispered as she leaned against the door as she closed it. She had liked the door as a barrier between them. Distance in their case definitely was a good thing.

'Ye can try and shut every door ye find in front of me, but I'll find a way to pick the locks. I will Devon...' his eyes bore into her and suddenly she broke in a sweat.

'Try to understand me, Jack, please. This is difficult for me. You and I... it is difficult. Because I _love_ you' she winced when she said the words that weighed so heavy. Words she'd never uttered before. She hadn't even said them when she had been so much younger and was engaged to Francis Steward. Devon had truly been in love back then or at least she thought she was in love at the time, but there was a world of difference between what she'd felt back then and what she felt now; for Sparrow. 'I hate ye but at the same time I find myself loving ye. I love you, you bastard! And if anyone ever asks me I'll completely deny it, but it's a fact I can't chance, regardless how much I desire it'. Jack listened to her ranting and his heart jumped in his chest, because her voice was so heartrending that his anger was long forgotten at this point.

'And loving me would be a problem. Why...' he asked, never taking his eyes away from her. _She does love me! _

'I didn't think I was capable o' feeling' this way... I don't know what to do. I never pegged it ta be this difficult'

He sighed; the slur and the familiar drawl in his voice were completely gone at this point. 'I know what you mean, luv. But if it'd be easy, Devon, if either of _us_ had been easy, ye think we'd be standing here?' he took her hands in his own. 'You think we'd ever have gotten to this point? I personally think not' Jack spoke strong-minded. He was determined to finally reach her. Determined to make her surrender this continual fight with herself and both their feelings. Drunk or not, his mind and his heart were clearer then ever 'And do ye know why that is, tart? It's because we both need the challenge, we both need the excitement and the adventure'

She shook her head 'I don't know. All I know is that I'm sure if this was meant to be, it should have been easier' Devon answered, her gaze cast on her Bullet. Oddly enough, her dog had placed itself between its mistress and Jack Sparrow. However, it was looking at her. It seemed to defend Jack. _Why are ye takin' his side, Bullet? _

When Jack didn't respond, she looked at him. 'Look at William and Elisabeth fer example. I'm sure it wasn't this hard for them...the whole love thing that is...'

'It might have been harder then you think, Devon. Even for them,' he paused, trying to arrange his thoughts 'But I'm not here to discuss the Turners' love life with you. I'm here because of our relationship. Or whatever is left of it. So tell me, Devon, am I to conclude that you're willing to throw away everything we've shared, all that we've been through together, because it's proven to be difficult?' his eyes locked hers into place; he wasn't about to let go that easily. He knew that he had to break her so she would tell him the truth about her condition. He had to corner her somehow because he knew she was determined to keep it from him. He needed her to trust him so that he, in turn, could learn how to trust her.

'Do you have any intention of givin' up the sweet trade also, luv? Since I'm sure there are thousands of professions EASIER then piracy'

'That's different!' she spat. Although she knew he was right.

'Did ye not once tell me you didn't want to take on your father's name, because that would have made things easier for you? You WANTED the difficult way, you CHOSE the hard way, because you had to fight and prove yourself. Am I correct?'

She gave a brisk nod and Jack continued 'Then why is this different? If we'd both back out of this now, we'd be cowards. Afraid of what we feel, afraid of the unfamiliar...'

'It shouldn't be this difficult; it should come naturally... at least that's what I've been told' she countered again, knowing in her heart he had just struck a cord.

'I think we're the ones makin' it difficult for ourselves. What it all boils down to is two things. Both of them simple. First is the fact whether or not we feel the same way about each other. Second is if we want to stay in each other's lives in some way shape or form. I will speak fer the both of us now... Yes we do.' his voice was strong and determined; his eyes searched Devon's again for confirmation. He found the answer in her eyes.

'But it won't be easy Jack. Regardless of what we feel or how we feel at this point in time. It will never be easy. Not when we're the ones involved.'

'I'm beginning to think you don't deem us worthy enough to fight for what we have. Let me tell you this, Devon Black. For the first time in me years I found meself a woman that shares my outlook on many o' things. A woman with a mind of her own and with a good head on her well shaped form. An ally. A woman that is an adventure on her own. A woman that can make me laugh. A woman worth the anguish I have felt over her. A woman that lit up my black heart with a newborn fire and a woman that could very well become the death of me, but I would gladly take that chance. I'm willin' ta give this a chance Devon. With you. For as long as it lasts'

_But it won't last Jack. It can't. Don't you see? My pregnancy is going to complicate things even further and you'll be long gone once you find out. __She bit her lip when she realized something; __He hasn't said he loves me back, he hinted it, but he didn't say it… __she thought. _

She turned away from him, biting the nail of her thumb out of desperation.

'What's holding you back? Our pasts? Ye find it hard to love me because of our pasts?' he demanded, turning her around by her shoulders and taking her callused hands in his own. Delicately caressing them with his ringed thumbs.

She glanced up to him 'As hard as it is ta love you and admitting to it Captain Jack Sparrow. It's even harder trying not to love you. God knows I've tried that ever since we've met. I still hate you at times' she smiled softly. 'That bein' said; no one can chance the past. That's over and done with'

'Yet the past proves to be an excellent teacher' he said, playing with a strand of her hair. 'We've both made choices good 'n bad, made mistakes, taken wrong turns in the course of our lives, but all the bad and right choices have led us here. To this' Jack said looking into her eyes 'I'd really like for you to be honest, at least with me. What are you thinking? You think I'll betray your trust again?'_ Now tell it to me, Devon. Just tell me now; ye can't keep it hidden forever._

She shook her head. He'd done that once. That time in Tortuga with the young whore. Yet somehow she couldn't picture him that way anymore. He was as earnest and honest as he could be and it gave her chills. _I have to tell him…_

His voice shook her from her reverie 'I know I've betrayed ye, in Tortuga. But I needed me mind cleared that time, Devon. It took me to bed a whore to realize it's you I want. Need even. That aside, you could betray my trust just as easily. You weren't exactly monogamous either'

She smiled a small smile 'True, and still I give no guarantees but you seem ta hold my heart and for as long as it's yours there's no one else I need'

He smiled. Genuinely. 'Are you certain about that?'

'Nothing is certain in life Jack Sparrow only death'

He grinned at her, his gold teeth glistening 'That's where ye're wrong luv. Not even death is certain.'

She frowned at him 'How's that?'

'I've been dead. Dead by Barbossa's hand. Yet I stand here before you; feeling more alive then I've ever felt'

'I'd forgotten about that'

'I haven't. I will never forget that feeling… It was such a powerful feeling; immortality'

'Tell me how it feels. Describe it to me, please.' she pleaded.

'The best way to describe it is that ye care deeply for an amazing woman and aren't afraid of admitting it to her. Then seeing her smile when she tells you she loves ye back'

Devon smiled up at him 'Who be this woman that makes you feel immortal Jack?'

'Giselle' he said seriously. His jaw set in a straight line.

'Bastard!' she chuckled.

'That was never proven, luv' he tsked, waving his ringed finger in front of her. Then he pulled her to him and kissed the top of her unruly curls.

'Just imagine, luv. When we give it a chance… we could be the most feared couple in the whole Spanish Main. Outlaws, wanted by the Crown. We'd be wanted, hunted… scoundrels, heard of, and talked about, but uncatchable… Lovers, but with a good 'n

black heart. But only when it suits us, of course'

She smiles a little at this. 'O' course'

'I'll let ye do yer job on t' Hazard, ye let me do mine on me Pearl and we shall rendez vouz every now 'n again… here or there...'n make the sparks fly, what 'd ye say, luv?'

'Now ye're just playin Casanova' she whispered.

'I'll play any part I need to play in order to convince ye, Vonnie.'

The way he spoke her name reminded her so much of her father that it warmed her heart. He had never called her Vonnie before 'So now yer trying to romance me instead' she said looking up to him.

'I'd rather hoped I was succeeding', not trying' he whispered back to her a small lopsided grin tugged as his lips and Devon couldn't help herself any more. She was in way over her head... too far gone to save herself.

'Ye've succeeded a long time ago, Captain'

'The uniform eh?' he grinned to break whatever ice was left, taking a few steps back as he twirled around to let her see his 'uniform' properly.

Devon threw her arms around him 'Oh yeah... that must 'ave been it definitely. The uniform' she smiled against his lips. The kiss was as gentle as it was demanding and they both wanted it to last. Devon however was the one to break away first. _Tell him now Devon, he's been so open to you, the least he deserves is honesty from you as well. _

'Jack... there's something I need to tell you' she inhaled sharply, the blissful feeling that had just swirled inside her stomach had been replaced by a rock. 'There's something ye need to know'

Jack's hands curl into fists eager for her to finally confide in him, but instead of showing his anticipation he shrugs his shoulders 'What's that luv?'

'I don't know how to tell you this… but I'm pregnant, Jack' she whispered, carefully studying his eyes for a response. She could have sweet-talked around it, but before she could embroider it a bit more, the words were out of her mouth in all their bluntness.

Jack turned away from her not saying anything. The silence that lingered between them was so heavy that she felt suffocated by it.

_See Jack, she's pregnant! You were right. But now.. are you the father? Do you want to become a father? Who did she sleep with besides you? If she loves you like she says she does, why hasn't she told you she was with child? Hmmmm?_

'Jack?' she said with a trembling voice. 'Talk to me please. Curse, swear or scream, but just bloody say something'

Another few minutes of stony silence passed between the two pirates before Jack finally opened his mouth. He was still debating in his mind. Although he had suspected Devon was with child -possibly his - and although he had longed for her to confide in him, now that the truth was out, he didn't know how to handle it.

'Why did it take so long for you to tell me? You still don't trust me do ye, Devon?'

'No, no Jack I trust you it's just that-'

He cut her off harshly 'It's just that ye don't trust me. After all we've been through ye still don't trust me'

'Well' she whispered 'Do _you_ trust me?'

'No, frankly I do not. You've given me a million reasons not to trust you. But the question whether or not I trust you is hardly the issue here now is it Duville?' he said harshly.

She swallowed hard 'True, but what did ye mean by 'Why did it take so long?' you mean you knew?'

'Why do ye always take me for a fool Duville? I've spent enough blissful hours in brothels to be able to tell when a woman is with child and tries to hide it' he growled agitatedly.

She was hurt by his statement and ashamed that he'd seen right through her charade.

'I didn't know I could conceive. Cooper and his associates told me I'd never be able to conceive after that attack' she whispered lifting her blouse to show him her scar again. But it happened somehow and it's a fact I can't change'

His eyes took in the long rugged scar from her pelvis to her breast again. 'Is that why ye didn't want to talk about that scar?'

'Like I said; not one of me best stories' she said, releasing her blouse.

When the fabric of her blouse covered the scar again Jack swallowed hard.

'Jack?'

He turned his back on her and forced himself to walk away. His supposedly cold black heart broke when he heard her cry out to him, but he had to go. He just had to. Call it foolish, call it cowardly, call it harsh, but it was something he had to do.

'Jack, please... talk to me! Jack don't leave me!' Devon practically begged him. The pain and panic in her hoarse voice was not lost on him, but he forced himself to turn away from her anyhow. He had to. When she tried to grab him by his arm, he jerked his arm away. Harshness had replaced the tenderness he had shown her earlier. When he climbed the stairs, Jack felt suffocated by his own feelings and a veil of sweat covered his brow. Even though he had drunk heavily this night, he was sober instantly. Moreover, he hated how that made him feel.

'Fine! Walk way! That's what ye're good at right? Ye good-for-nothing' bastard!'

When the door slammed shut behind him Devon pulled what was left of her pride together and forced herself to dry her tears. She knew Jack had a right to reject her; to reject their baby. Even she herself had rejected the baby she carried. Nevertheless, that did not mean she didn't feel like she had just died inside. Jack had hurt her before, and she had hurt him, but this time she knew she wouldn't be able to bounce back so easily.

_It be his choice Devon; ye can't force a man to love ye._

TBC

A/N: First I would like to thank all of you for your kind reviews. They really gave me a boost to keep going. This chapter was so hard to write, you have no idea. I couldn't think of another way to write it. All the feelings had to be written, but it was so hard... so damn hard to write them.

Devon tries to be strong; tries to keep up the image she has built for herself, but now that she has experienced how love can be, she has to let the real woman out. The woman that cries real tears and needs someone to love. She's not so tough after all. I hope you all liked this chapter. It really took blood, sweat and tears to write, so I hope it was worth it. Their both such strong characters it's hard to write an emotional scene when both characters are so powerful. But then again, even the toughest hero has a weakness, right?


	37. Heart to Hearts

_Disclaimer; I don't own anything besides Devon, her Captain and her crew and my own imagination. All the rest belongs to the mouse!_

**On Christmas Eve I thought I'd do something special for all you faithful readers and reviewers. Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Have yourself a very merry Christmas.**

**Leave a review if you like. If you're logged in I'll reply to every review personally once the review gets in! **

**Here's my gift to you:**

_Our battles are repetious  
if not broken poetry  
and maybe that's the attraction  
that you're as self-absorbed as me_

_Maria Mena - Our Battles_

**Chapter 37**

**- Heart to Hearts -**

Devon had strained herself to act as if her heart hadn't been broken. She needed to sign the log in Drake's quarters as she was required to do. So when she was certain she could put up the façade, she forced herself to climb the stairs. Jack had hurt her more this time than he had ever done before. She was certain he would be angry with her; with the whole situation -– same as she was- but she hadn't pictured things to go this way. Not with him leaving without hearing the whole truth. Not with him leaving before he learned she was carrying _his_ child. Their child. Devon took a deep breath in order to find her strength again as she passed the galley. She made a turn and went inside to splash a bit of water on her eyes before she went to meet her Captain.

* * *

"Drake?" she shouted; her voice was still a bit hoarse from crying.

She knocked on the doors when no answer came, "Captain, are ye in there?"

She heard a rummaging sound and then the doors opened "Took ye long enough, where were ye?"

"Below," she stated. "Can I sit down?"

"Suit yourself," he said, followed by a muttered "Since you always do."

"Oy, I 'eard that!" Devon shouted once she entered the Captains Quarters.

"Good thing you did," Drake counters. "Maybe if you hear it enough it will finally get through to you."

When she didn't come up with some kind of witty remark or snide comment, Drake looked at his first mate. "Devon, might I inquire what's wrong with you? Your eyes are all puffy."

"Nothin' Sir. Nothin' that a bottle of good, strong rum can't fix anyways." she said.

"So, you haven't come here because I sent for you, but you came to plunder my cupboards instead, is that it?"

"No, this time I haven't," she said trying to put a bit cheer in her voice. "I just wanted to ask what yer plans are, assumin' ye have any."

"Sitting and waiting just isn't your thing, now is it Devon?'"

Her chapped lips tried their best to form a small smile "Never was, Capt'n. But that aside, I assume ye be needin' me ta sign the log?"

"Ah yes, of course, sit yourself down then Duville," he took the log and pointed where he needed her signature. Devon took a quill and dipped it in the ink jar. She signed her name next to her fingerprint in elegant flowing lines, or at least she tried to make her handwriting look that way. She felt the quill tremble because of the pain she was trying so hard to hide. "There. That's settled, now… about those plans?"

"Well... I've been over this with Captain Sparrow before and I suppose there's no harm in hearing your opinion. Drink?" he asked, already picking a bottle out of his cabinet. Devon winched when she heard _his_ name pronounced. She'd never be able to hear his name being mentioned or uttered without feeling the pain deep inside her soul.

When Drake poured Devon a cup of whiskey Devon panicked. For a tiny second she felt unsure what to do. She shouldn't drink, but why? She hadn't wanted this baby to begin with, plus, by turning down a drink, her Captain would get suspicious. Reality had proven men didn't respond well to her being open about her condition. Devon Duville had never turned down a stiff drink in her life. So she nodded and took the goblet Drake had filled for her. _[Determined__ta__kill__yer__baby,__aren't__you?__Think__this__over,__Devony...]_her father's voice reasoned in the back of her mind. Devon brought the goblet to her lips and drowned its contents in one single swig.

"_My__life__da',__mine__alone!__"_ she thought and raised her glass for a refill. The liquor set her throat afire and she savoured the taste of the high quality whiskey her captain had served her. As the liquor burned its way down her throat into her stomach, she eased a bit. No more then just a bit though.

"We'll set sail at the crack of dawn; I want you to take the helm when we sail out. I'll be working out a plan to follow once we get into open sea," he paused then, looking deep into Devon's dark blue eyes. "The Navy's still after Sparrow isn't she?" he said it in a casual manner, but Devon knew this wasn't a casual question.

"Sir, the Navy's after every pirate ship sailing these waters, Sparrow's no exception, neither are we, so why ask?" she said leaning back in her chair; her eyes narrowed to slits.

"I just want to calculate all the risks. This is not the kind of venture that should be taken lightly, you are aware of that are you not, Duville?" Drake asked, as he went through his charts.

Devon snorted in return _Nope,__this__isn't__just__chit-chat_ "Capt'n, permission ta speak freely, 'n even if I'm not permitted; if there weren't risks ta be taken, problems ta overcome, we'd all have chosen other professions. I mean I'm sure there's a shortage of librarians or somethin' the like ashore. We all live for the risks; the risks -and conquering them- make it all worthwhile in the end. We thrive on the anxiety; on the dangers, everything may involve. Ye do too. When did ye become so negative, Capt'n? I've ne'er seen ye so worried b'fore."

Her Captain bit at her "Everything that has happened since I told you to get that map, is what caused that pessimism, Duville."

"Look on the bright side, Capt'n. The men all complained about the lack of adventure before we went ta Port Royal, now they can all set the teeth they have left in somethin' that'll be mindblowin'. I for one can't wait."

Isaac Drake smiled at her enthusiasm, and Devon hoped and prayed he wouldn't be able to tell her fervour was faked this time. "Always the one to dive headfirst into danger, aren't you?"

"Indeed," she stated, trying to muster a smirk. "'N then all pansies follow. Can I 'ave a bit more o' the good stuff, Drake?" she asked, not awaiting an answer but filling herself and her Captain a good glass of whiskey again. Pregnant or not, she _really_ needed to have a drink.

"Being the first to sign on to dangerous missions isn't always the wisest thing to do Devon. You're a woman; no one asks or demands you to always be the first."

She sighed "Don't patronize me Drake! It's because o' the fact that I'm a woman I stand first in line Sir. I don't ask for special treatment and _you_ o' all people should know I 'ave to prove me self worthy over and over, just because of what I am."

"I suppose that's true," Drake answered. "Tis just that you chose a profession that doesn't quite suite your gender…"

He never got to finish his sentence because Devon cut in; nearly spitting the words out to him

"I chose to be at sea, because that's where me heart lies. I am well aware of the dangers, I know the stakes, and I know that most women choose otherwise, but this is what I was intended to do. This is what I was born to do. I'm jus' very grateful ye made the bold 'n outlandish decision ta sign me on."

Drake chuckled "Most people thought I'd lost me mind signin' on a woman."

"I'm willin' to bet some of them still feel that way." Devon mumbled before taking another swig of her drink.

"I don't care if it's unusual or frowned upon. I know you're a great asset to any crew and I meant every word I said. I really am honoured and privileged having you aboard; having you as my right hand."

Devon smiled a little at this "That means a great deal to me, Capt'n."

Drake smiled in return. "You wager forming an alliance with Captain Sparrow is a wise thing to do?" her Captain asked as he looked her in the eye.

She swallowed hard. _Why __does __he __have __to __mention __his __name,__why __does __this __have __to __be __about, __Jack? __Keep __it __light __Devon,__just __forget __about __last __night.__Act __as __if __you're __okay.__Be __strong._"It could be beneficial to have an ally, plus he's dealt with curses before", Devon states. "Not sayin' he knows what we're up against exactly, no one knows that, but if ye want an alliance ta be formed, I don't know who'd apply better then Sparrow. Ye've obviously known him for a long time and from the time I've spent with him; I know he's a man o' his word."

Drake took a swig of his drink when he tilted his head a little and looked at her "Just how well do _you_ know him exactly Devon?"

_Apparently, __I __don't __know __him __at __all,__she __thougt __resentfully._"Well enough ta be able to safely say he's willin' ta put his money where his mouth is any time."

"So he's a gambler, like yourself, is that it? Is that what you're saying?"

"A gambler, yes I suppose ye could say that, but he's true to himself; won't be persuaded to change direction under pressure when he's got his mind set on somethin'." _Last __night __was __proof __enough _ _of __that. __Can't __force __him __into __a __direction __he __doesn't __want __to __go __in__… _She felt the tears trying to find their way into her eyes again, but luckily, she was able to blink them away. She had to reconstruct her mask of ignorance. She had to be brave force her tough and fearless alter ego to resurface once more.

Isaac Drake's eyes narrowed to slits as he watched Devon take another swig from her whiskey "Does he have his mind set on you?"

She gulped, the whiskey going up her windpipe "Excuse me?" she coughed.

"Are _you_ the reason he's willing to form an alliance with us?"

_Maybe he wants an alliance with you, certainly not with me… that's perfectly clear now._

"Sparrow's in for the treasure and the thrill; I can tell ye for a fact, that he doesn't care about me. So I hardly think I 'ave anythin' to do with it. Besides that, ye'd have ta ask him, I can't read his thoughts. _I've__tried__that__long__enough..._All I can do is just guess his motives."

"I'm doing just that Devon. Guessing his motives, the way he looks at you..."

"What? The way he looks at me makes ye second guess his motives?" Devon snorts, but a jolt runs through her at Drake's insinuation. Had he really looked at her in a different way other men did? Devon knew she could make heads turn in the streets of Tortuga and Singapore though of course those turning heads could have something to do with the way she dressed rather then the way she looked, she figured Jack Sparrow being a man, wouldn't look at her any differently then those others had. He had said he loved her – a lifetime ago-, but then, after he found out what the results of their supposed love was, he had taken it all back. When he left her last night, all the words he had spoken earlier had proven to be lies.

Drake's voice broke her from her thoughts – a good thing it did, because she was on the verge of tears again- "Yes, because if he's getting involved because of you I need to know where you stand."

"I'm sittin' at the moment, Drake." _Don't __cry __Devon, __for __goodness __sakes, __don't __start __sobbing __again._

"Did ye bed him?" Drake demanded.

Instead of shedding her tears, her eyes now nearly bulged out of their sockets "Did I what?" But then she corrected herself "Will you quit this bloody interrogation already? You want to know if I've bedded him? Yes, Drake, as a matter of fact I did bed him, once or twice, no big deal." she said, trying to sound as casually as she normally would have. _I __just bloody __wish __I __hadn't.__The __biggest __mistake __of __my __life._

"Once or twice..." Drake repeats slowly.

She shrugs her shoulders in a casual manner "Aye. Well… give or take a few times..."

Suddenly Drake gets up from his chair, hovering across the table "Now. Let's see... you say it's no big deal, yet... you've always had this one very specific rule about men, if I do remember correctly. Did you not?"

Devon's eyes really bulged now. _Blast__it!_ "Well... I may 'ave had a change o' heart 'bouts that rule, Sir." she whispered casting her gaze on the inkwell. She couldn't bear to look her superior in the eyes at this point. Her eyes would give her away. She could act all she wanted but her eyes couldn't play their part at this point.

"Do speak up, Duville; I didn't quite catch that." Drake taunted, taking pleasure in seeing an unnerved Devon wiggle in her chair. For once he had made her fluster. He didn't like the reason for the fluster though.

"That rule no longer applies, Sir." she said a bit louder this time.

Drake looked at her questioningly "How come?"

"Personal reasons." she said, crossing her arms, she didn't like the direction in which this conversation was going one bit.

"Because of Captain Sparrow?" Drake asked, knowing he had her cornered now.

"Nay, I just thought a good fuck's a good fuck... certainty o' fulfilment 's better 'n waistin' time findin' one that'll do. Not that he was that good a good fuck though…"she said trying to sound casual. But she found her heart was once again disagreeing with her mouth. She used to enjoy the hunt for fresh flesh, but since Jack... no other man had been able to rouse her complete and undivided attention. Sure, she'd look around, flirt a little, but not with the intention of luring them to bed… Her interest had changed from men into man and she didn't know how to change it back again. She was certain he didn't even know he had this much of an effect on her. They had told each other they cared about each other last night. They had told each other they were in love, but Devon hadn't told him exactly just how much she actually loved him. How carefree had made her and how she was now fighting the consequences of her carelessness. But then… Jack had left her and their unwanted unborn child behind. Thank God he didn't know how much she loved him. And now, he would never know.

For the second time it was Drakes voice that lured her back into the present "So, in other words, since Captain Sparrow there's been no other."

_DAMNIT!_ "Nay, whatever gave ye that idea? Ye've ne'er shown this much interest in me love life b'fore Drake, why start now?"

Isaac Drake decided to table the subject for now. He looked into his charts "Never mind, let's establish our course, shall we?" When he saw Devon take out her compass and her navigation tools, he looked at her again. Something had changed since he'd sent her out to get that map. She looked paler, less vivacious and carefree then he remembered her. Not even mentioning the moodiness. Jack Sparrow may have saved her from the noose, but he'd changed Devon from a vibrant sparkling woman, in to a troubled shadow of herself.

Devon looked up from the chart "Don't worry so much Drake, ye'll get wrinkles, lasses don't like tha'. An' I should know, I use ta be one." she forced a grin, swallowing the last of her whiskey.

He grinned back at her; maybe she hadn't changed that much after all.

* * *

Meanwhile in the Captains Quarters on the Pearl:

He was thinking about her again. Devon, the mother of his unborn child.

Although he wasn't certain the child she carried was his, it felt like he was the father to be.

He could hear her cries repeating in the back of his mind. He could still feel the pressure from her grasp on his arms. She had clung to him, almost in a desperate manner. She actually had feelings after all, she actually did care about him and she loved him.

A small smiled formed on his lips. He was supposed to be happy, right? Jack sighed as he rolled over again in his bed. He couldn't sleep and after all the events earlier that night, drinking wouldn't help him this time either. Devon was pregnant. Was she pregnant with _his_ child? A child that was the result of their wild, passionate, carnal, heavenly lovemaking? He had never wanted to be with a woman as bad as he had wanted to be with Devon and now everything had changed. She was pregnant. Was it even his child? His mind drifted back to the times he and Devon had made love in the last couple of months… had she been unfaithful to him? He snorted to himself as he looked up to the carved woodworks of the ceiling. Unfaithful… It was hard to be unfaithful when there was no one to be faithful to. Before the other night there hadn't been a formal description of a relationship. Before the other night they had agreed there weren't any strings attached, just lust. No, that wasn't true. At first it was just the lust, just the feel of her body, just the need for release, just the thrill and the fun, but all that had changed after a while. There _was_ a relationship and Jack couldn't recall ever losing sight of her when he had seen her with other men.

She couldn't have been that far along... he'd noticed she had become a bit fuller around the waist. He'd noticed that before, but then he hadn't really paid mind to it. So long as it were _his_ hands on _her_ body, he didn't mind. Even if her body was a bit different then before, he didn't care. But now, as he gave it a bit more thought, he had noticed a difference in the way she carried herself. He remembered that he had thought it were her land legs -he himself had slight trouble to keep himself balanced on land –so he had thought no more of it, up till now. They were out at sea now, the ship was swaying and she seemed to walk differently. She had been nauseous for a while now and that had started when they had started the search for _The__Hazard_. He took a deep breath… now he was almost certain the child Devon carried was actually his. A babe… he closed his eyes as he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

He couldn't picture himself being a father, yet if he had to father a child he preferred Devon to be its mother. He couldn't quite picture the wild, tattooed woman as a mother either. Yet, she was going to be one in a few months if all went well. They were going to have a baby. Good God, what was he going to do?

If only she would have been normal. Just a normal, sane person...

Then couldn't help smiling to himself, because he was well aware of the fact that if she – in fact - had been normal, he wouldn't have fallen for her in the first place.

He really did love her he was as certain about that as he was about loving his Pearl. It was the same kind of love. Jack's love for his ship ran deep and so did his love for Devon. It all seemed surreal. Things that he never planned to happen had happened. He had actually fallen in love with a woman; a real woman of flesh and blood, not a deck and a hull and sails. Was it really so hard to become a father? Was it really that hard to take responsibility for his actions; their actions? The longer he thought about Devon's pregnancy, the more he gave thoughts to the times he had spent with her between the sheets, or without the sheets for that matter and he recapped when he'd first seen the signs of her pregnancy.

The child was his; at this point in time there were no doubts in his mind about that.

So now what to do?

_Go to her, Jack. She needs you..._

_- No, she has to prove herself to me one last time. She has to prove she loves me and trusts me -_

_You'll ruin it for the both of you, hold her Jack. Comfort her._

He took a deep sharp breath. What he was about to do was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his whole life. He had to give her the cold shoulder. He had to reject her for a little longer to see if she would break... If he knew her like he thought he did, she would try and talk to him again about last night. And if she did, he would have to stick to his plan, as hard as it was. He needed to know their love was meant to be. When he heard Gibbs call, he realized the whole night had passed and he had been awake all the time.

"Ye're supposed ta meet Captain Drake, Jack."

"I am aware o' that Mr. Gibbs, I'm up." Jack answered. When Gibbs opened the door he looked at Jack "Good God, you look a mess, 'ave you been up all night?"

"Aye." Jack answered flatly.

"Because of her?" Joshamee inquired bluntly. His captain looked horrible. And the quartermaster had a feeling Miss Duville was causing more problems then he had anticipated. Ana had told him her thoughts and now that he saw Jack he knew AnaMaria had been right. His Captain was in way over his head.

"Close the door, Gibbs." Jack ordered as he inspected himself in the mirror. _I__look__like__hell._

Gibbs nodded and stepped outside the chambers and closed the door behind him. Jack turned around "Close the door with you _inside_ the room, Gibbs! I need to talk to you."

It took a while before Gibbs came back inside. He stood with his arms behind his back, watching Jack wash his face. A sight he didn't get to witness all that often.

"She's pregnant." Jack ground out when he dried his face with a towel.

"I see." was all Joshamee was able to utter.

"She told me last night."

"I see." Gibbs retorted again, studying his Captains face.

"Is that all you can say?, mate: _"I__see_", " Jack spat. "Well I should've seen it coming, right?"

"Well, Captain, I figured a man like yourself knows how it's done." Gibbs said.

"I know how it's done, mate! I know perfectly well how a child is conceived. I just didn't see it coming. Don't know if it's mine either."

"She didn't tell you who the father is?"

"Didn't give her much of a time to explain, I left after she told me she is with child."

"Jack!" Gibbs reprimanded. He didn't care much for the woman his Captain was so infatuated with, but leaving a pregnant woman behind without letting her explain simply went too far for him. Even if that pregnant woman was a hellcat called Devon Duville.

"What was I supposed to do? I didn't intend to impregnate her. Fornicate yes; reproduce no. Not yet…anyways. I don't even know the child she carries is mine to begin with."

Gibbs intervened "Well, if you think the child is yours, perhaps you shouldn't have left her and let her explain."

"Perhaps not, but I did"

"Why? Why did ye leave her Jack?"

Jack turned around to face his old friend "I don't rightly know. I panicked at first I guess, but I also left, because she obviously still doesn't trust me."

Gibbs snorted "That surprises you? You're not exactly the most trustworthy person around, Jack."

Jack shrugged his shoulders "Pirate," he stated as if that simple fact explained it all. "And so is she, as you well know, lets not be forgettin' that. Therefore she isn't very reliable either." Jack sunk onto his mattress. "I also left, because I want to see if she can learn to trust me."

Gibbs brow furrowed "Well I'm sure that she'll start to trust you now that you've left her behind without good reason." the sarcasm in his voice was not lost on Sparrow.

"I had good reason!" Jack shouted. "Wait a second! Are you taking her side in this?" Jack demanded.

The older man frowned "Well… I guess I am, don't know why though, I never really liked the woman, but since the two of you were nigh inseparable I think you've made a poor choice by leaving her behind, no telling what she'll do next."

Jack sighed "You're right. There's no telling what she'll do next… I have a meeting with Captain Drake now. I suppose she'll be there."

"I am thinking you gave this a bit more thought over night, what's your plan?"

Jack got up from the bed and adjusted his sash and belts "I do have a plan, but I'm not sure it will work this time…"

Gibbs placed a callused hand on his captains' shoulders "Jack, a word to the wise, as a loyal friend and a member of your crew, we all know ye care for her. Don't let her slip away if ye care for her."

"Thought you didn't like her." Jack said as he looked his quartermaster in the eyes.

Gibbs sighed "I might not particularly care for her, but I do care about you."

* * *

There was a drum on the door and Hoggins stepped inside "Capt'n Jack Sparrow's 'ere ta meet ye, Capt'n." he said.

"Show him in, Mr. Hoggins." Drake said without looking up from the paper. Devon didn't look up either. Her heart was nearly beating its way out of her chest and it took all her willpower to keep her tears locked inside.

"Mornin' Sir. Milady." he said when he looked at Devon, taking his hat off and bowing elegantly to her. It was so hard seeing her again after last night. "Mornin' Capt'n Sparrow." Devon retorted flatly, immediately directing all her attention to the charts again as she calculated the course she and Drake had set out. _Try__to__ignore__him__Devon__and__get__out__o'__here__fast__you__can._

"Hard at work 'gain I see." Jack said, trying to sound casual, but Devon didn't miss the way his voice lowered just a tad. Devon didn't respond. Jack watched her hands, her callused, strong yet still very feminine hands, move across the charts and watched her scribble calculations down on a piece of paper. When Drake wrote down the course he wanted to take, Jack looked at the chart more closely. Devon's course was less obvious then Drake's one, but he had to agree with hers. It was the best way to sail to the islands the bold way. Drake's course was safer, avoided most of the reefs and took a bit longer.

"Who taught ye ta calculate a course, Duville?" Jack mumbled trying to make casual conversation while he saw her calculating again. "Drake?"

She looked up to him after a while, still not answering his query. Her eyes were reddened and hollow, Jack noticed, as if those twinkling lights that had lit them before had burned out. _She's__in__pain.__I__really__hurt__her__this__time__… _Part of him wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her how he regretted leaving her, how he loved her still, but then he thought about his plan and forced himself to act cold. He'd shown lots of women his dark side before, the tenderness and the suave gentle persuasion before he moved on to the next woman that crossed his path. And they were mad at him; hurt and angry -– until he was back in town of a night or two and most of them ended up on their backs regardless and forgave him in the end –- but those woman weren't Devon and it hadn't been this hard for him back then. He actually loved this woman and carrying out his plan was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Why go through with it then? Because Devon had to prove herself to him, prove that she really loved him as much as he loved her. She had been right the other night. Love in their case wasn't easy. Not when they were both so untrusting.

When she finally answered him, Devon's voice was colder then he'd ever heard before. It hurt him deeper then he dared to admit "When you see my charted course, Sparrow, does it strike you as I was taught by Captain Isaac Drake?" Then she looked at Drake "No offence Sir."

"None taken." Drake replied.

"No, I think I can safely say, that that certainly doesn't seem to be the case."

"Well then." Devon said flatly, as she cast her gaze back upon the dual charted map.

"Who did then?" Drake asked as he took a closer look at Devon's notes.

"Poseidon himself." she said with a dramatic flourish of her hands. The gesture was light and elegant, and contradicted her voice that still hadn't lost that coldness and her eyes still couldn't hold his for a longer span of time.

Jack couldn't help but grin a little, despite his intent to act cold. He knew Devon referred to her father as Poseidon where as Drake lacked this knowledge.

"Can't you be serious at least for once in your life, Duville?" Drake snapped.

Devon put her tools down and took a deep breath "I might, if I really put my mind to it, but fer some reason me mind seems ta be elsewhere." she glared at Jack but then cast her eyes on the papers again.

When Devon saw both men looking at her from the corner of her eyes, demanding further explanation, she said "I've written down my calculations. Do with them as ye please. I'm gonna see if DaCosta's work has improved since me absence."

Jack nodded and sat himself down in a chair. Drake went after Devon "I don't rightly know what's going on with you, Duville, but something tells me it involves more than that mark on your skin and the map am I right?"

Devon shrugged her shoulders and left the room. She was grateful to be away from Jack again. The pain was simply too much for her to bear.

* * *

Later that day:

"Do ye love Capt'n Sparrow?"

DaCosta's question sounded more like an accusation then anything else. Devon raised a well shaped eyebrow at her apprentice "I don't think that's relevant here, what _IS_ relevant is tha' ye still do it wrong. Here," she sighed agitatedly as she snatched the tools from out of DaCosta's hands "I'll show it to ye one last time. I wagered ye'd have had a lot o' practice while I was away, but apparently ye've just decided ta use yer –- no doubt –- valuable time fer other efforts."

Devon's grimy fingers got to work, this time slowly, and skillfully they re-assembled the flintlock her apprentice had taken apart.

"There, done. Now take it apart 'gain." she huffed crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"But ... we've just gott'n it back together." DaCosta said, mentally cursing her persistence.

"No, mate! I'VE gott'n it back together, ye've 'ad no part in it what-so-ever, now show me if that tiny brain 'o yers registered anything at all!" Devon's glare met DaCosta's eyes and he resigned to his duties.

Devon looked him over, with her arms crossed in front of her chest "There are more important things at hand, then me 'avin' ta show ye t' same bloody procedures over 'n over again. How many times 'ave we been over this? If ye ain't gonna do this with yer heart an' start takin' things a bit more serious then I'll 'ave ta 'ave a chat with Drake about resignin' ye from yer duties."

DaCosta looked up to her, dumbfounded. He was used to the fact that Devon could have quite the temper, but now she was just being plain hostile. He wondered what had caused her foul mood, surely, he thought, it didn't have to do with the fact that he hadn't taken the pistol apart in the way he should have, there was something else going on and he was almost certain it had something to do with Captain Sparrow. The way she had evaded his question only proved that he was on to something.

TBC

**A note from the author:**

**I want to thank all of you readers for adding me and/or my story to your favourites list, even if you've never reviewed. I know you're there and I know you like my story and that feels so good. And all the reviewers get a great big Dutch hug and three kisses to you (that's how we do it over here). If you have logged in while reviewing I have already replied to you in person. If you didn't log in, I couldn't respond to you, but I'll do it now: Thank you ever so much for dropping me a line. Every single review is greatly appreciated. I learn from your reviews and they are the fuel that keeps me going. I love you all and I hope I'll have another update for you somewhere in the New Year. Hopefully my right hand Linthilde will join me again in cooking up new twists and turns in the upcoming chapters and that we can bring you lots of more chapters to read together. Thanks again for all your support, loyalty, praises and criticism over the years!**

**Love you all! I wish you all a very merry Christmas and I hope 2008 will bring you everything you expect from it.**

**Hugs from Holland,**

**Angela**


	38. All Alone

_Disclaimer; I don't own anything besides Devon, her Captain and her crew and my own imagination. All the rest belongs to the mouse!_

I can't give

When you give nothing in return

I can't live

When all my freedom's burned

Above me

In front of me no room for you

Beside me

Is all that I can do

Don't hold me

Don't tie me down

Don't change me

Leave what you've found

All alone

So quiet

Your insecurities are clear

You hide it

There's so much that you fear

Run naked

There's beauty in an open soul

Just break it

Your desire to control

Don't hold me

Don't tie me down

Don't change me

Leave what you've found

You won't break me

I won't turn around

You can't take me

And leave what you found

All alone

All alone

Don't throw your ideals at me

All alone baby I'm not something that you can own

All alone I won't live in your world for me

All alone Look at me I'm better off

All alone on the run from reality

All alone the light's on, but baby I won't be home

All alone your attitude is all pride to me

All alone keep it up and you're gonna be

All alone

- Ilse de Lange / All Alone –

**Chapter 39**

**- All Alone** -

She was desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures. She needed to speak with him. And it had to be done now! She wasn't herself and she didn't think she'd be able to be herself again until she had a chance to explain her actions to Jack. He needed to hear her out; he needed to hear what all this was doing to her. That she hadn't planned this. That she needed him.

"Where the Devil do ye think ye're going, Duville? I need ye behind the wheel!" Drake shouted after Devon.

"Ye'll have to take it yourself, this is important" she shouted back before she grabbed hold of the rope and swung over to _The Pearl_.

Drake was furious "Get back here this minute Duville! Explain yourself!"

But Devon didn't wait or turn around, a soon as she had gained enough speed she let go of the rope above _The Pearl's _deck determined to do what she had planned to do.

Gibbs who a few feet away from her stared at her wide eyed "Do ye know ye could've taken a dive instead, missy? We were just coming up alongside; ye could've waited..."

"I know, but it was worth a shot" she retorted flatly. "I've waited too long fer this anyhow. Where be Jack?"

"In his quarters, but I must warn ye he's not in the best of moods" Gibbs said._'Ye're what causes that mood but I guess ye know that_', he thought.

"Thanks. I'll go find him then."

She drummed her knuckles on his doors. "Capt'n Sparrow?"

He looked up from his papers; his heart jumping in his throat. _Devon?_

"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice hard, although he full-well knew it was her on the other side of the door.

"It's me Jack. I believe I owe you an explanation… I should have told ye the other night, but ye didn't give me much o' a chance to explain..." before her sentence trailed off there were words spoken from the other side of the door.

"Why should I bother hearing you out? Ye keep everything close to yer vest anyhow.' he said emotionlessly.

"Jack, don't be like this. We need to talk. After we've talked and I've had my say it's up to you to decide where to go from there on. At the very least give me a chance to explain. Lemme in. Please let me in, Jack…"

"I don't see a reason why I should, Miss Duville"

She winced; besides the fact that he hadn't addressed her that way in months, his tone was void of any emotions. She had herself to blame for that really, if only she'd told him the truth from the beginning on. But it was so hard for her to come to terms with the truth herself... he'd have to understand that she didn't plan for any of this to happen; that she was just as taken aback as he was. He just _had_ to understand.

"Please! Jack, I'll pick the lock if ye won't let me in. You were right. I'm not good in opening up, no good with sharing. That's the pirate in me I believe, wanting everything for myself. But this involves ye same as me, therefore you deserve to know the truth, whether ye like it or not. If after that you feel the need to strangle me or never want to see or speak to me again; that'd be your call. I... you... are you even listenin' to me?" her grimy hands curled into fists out of desperation "But it's not that I'm the only one keeping secrets, Jack. You yourself have never been completely honest with me. I don't even know who you are!"

"That's a lie! You know I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!" he spat suddenly.

"Yes, that might be true. I know your name, I know your face, I know every line, every scar and bullet hole on your body, but I don't know _you_. At least I've told you about my parents, my past. You've kept yours to yourself. My skeletons aren't in my past, they're in the present."

Jack bit his lip as he listened to her from inside his cabin. She was right. Both of them had a hard time trusting people, he himself hadn't told her many of things. It was hard to bare his soul to her; because that would make him vulnerable. He pondered that thought for a moment; thinking she might have these same issues to deal with. Loss of face; keeping up an image that she had created for herself like he had created his own version of him. He had created the illusive and illustrious Captain Jack Sparrow. He had deliberately left parts of his past a mystery to her. His childhood, his father, his late mother, all the bonds that he'd cut off when he'd decided he would be better off alone…. His hand reluctantly reached for the latch on the door slowly_. She's righ'. I've been keeping secrets, same as._.. He drew back his hand then, slowly as he thought about what she'd done and how he needed to make her see and feel how much what she'd done to him had hurt him.

"That might be true," he said "But my secrets don't 'ave anythin' to do with ye, unlike what ye 'ave on yer chest. That's the difference. You've kept it hidden too long. And I think I know why ye've wanted to keep hidden, I just thought ye trusted me enough by know. How long did you intend to hide it from me Devon? What if I hadn't come to you last night? Somehow I think you wouldn't 'ave told me if I hadn't come to you, not until others would've asked questions you couldn't lie about. I'm not blind nor am I stupid. You should have told me. I loved you."

_Loved? Past thence? NO!_ "Then let me in so I can explain why it was so hard for me to tell you. Please Jack."

"Return to your ship, Miss. Duville. I 'ave no more to say to you, nor am I in need of hearin' yer unsatisfactory sorry excuse for an explanation."

Where his tone had been emotionless before, it devastated her to hear, that it was now laced with a bitterness so overpowering that it made her eyes sting. Devon was on the verge of tears. She had no weapons left to fight his battle. No coat of armor or shield could guard her heart when he was the one attacking it. Never in her life had she felt his vulnerable. Her body and the fetus inside of her gave her enough agony as it was, she didn't expect him to act this cold.

Suddenly she realized something; _he had known_. God knows for how long, but he had been aware of her pregnancy for a while. There were no doubts in her mind about that. Jack had known. Again she had made the mistake of underestimating him. Maybe he had even known it from early on, back when she had spent too much time with her head in the sand and while she was trying her hardest to deny it. Sweet Jesus, he had known, and she hadn't dared to inform him. She had misjudged him yet again. In her mind she had calculated that perhaps after she'd told him she was carrying _his_ child she thought he would be angry, not even before she had a chance to explain that she herself was petrified. That even she herself didn't know what to do.

"Jack," she pleaded again; her weathered voice was raw and thick because of the tears she was fighting with all her might. "Please Jack. Please let me in so we can talk this over."

"Go!" he replied sternly, his tone superior and cold. "Leave my ship. If ye don't respect the man, then at least respect the Captain." As Devon heard the words he spoke her heart broke once again.

"But Jack, please... I _do_ respect you!"

"Go away!" he shouted harshly and then, by the tone of his voice; Devon knew in her heart of hearts it was over. The pain that realization caused was unlike any pain she had ever endured. She felt like throwing up, only this time it wasn't due to her hormones. She turned her back against the door and let herself slide down it. She didn't care if anyone saw her, her heart was broken; she was broken. She couldn't take it anymore. There was only so much she could take, didn't he know that? She hadn't asked for this. She hadn't searched for love; she hadn't been looking for him. Surely he would know that she didn't want to trap him in any way. It had all sort of just… happened. Everything had just happened… he had to know that.

All she wanted was for him to hold her and tell her she wasn't alone in this. That he would want to hear her side of the story and why it had been so hard for her to tell him what was going on. But that wasn't going to happen. He had made that perfectly clear.

She involuntarily started to cry, hot tears ran down her cheeks as she curled up in front of the door. _Damn it all! Why won't he listen to what I have to say _He was right. Jack was right. And it was all her own doing. What had she been thinking? Well, she hadn't thought that true love would be this hard. It really was that – true love – she had found that out the hard way. No man would ever be able to take the place the flamboyant cocky Pirate Captain had conquered in her heart. No man would ever trigger these emotions from her. No man ever had before. She had everything and more than she ever hand wanted or desired when she had been in his arms. He had given her a sense of completion, a sense of security and a sense of freedom. But now - and that was the irony of it - he had given her back her cherished freedom; completely. Jack Sparrow had cut their bonds; he had set her free. Only… by doing so he had caged the free spirited woman in a prison of her own unbearable pain. And in spite of all her fathers' training, in spite of all the tactics in defense she had learned over the years, Devon didn't know how to handle this fight. This time around, as it turned out, she had nothing left to fight for…

* * *

Joshamee Gibbs had been tending to the ropes on deck while Devon had stood by Jack's doors. Therefore, he had overheard what had been said between his Captain and the sobbing bundle of black that was now curled up in front of the cabin doors, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for Devon. Whatever she had done, or regardless of how he personally felt about her, she didn't deserve to be treated this way.

In spite of everything she still was a woman and he simply couldn't stand to see a woman cry. Particularly a woman whom he'd never pegged to be the crying kind. It pained his old weary heart to see the tough, strong female pirate in so much pain. There were stories told in various ports about Devon Duville. About her boldness, her skills with her flintlock and her way with men… He had seen her around his Captain, and Jack's interest in the hellcat proved that she truly was the man-eater that she was made out to be. The tales that he had heard also told that no man had ever seen her cry. She had assumingly been tortured, branded, and wounded and she hadn't shed a single tear. When he had met Devon in person he had assumed those stories must have held a certain amount of truth to them, because of how she demonstrated herself. He shook his head thinking about how she had manifested herself around Jack. She was sharp, smug and shrewd. Well, and talented with guns and canons, he had to give her that. But now…, as he looked down on her, he saw with his own eyes that she was crying real – very real – tears and he didn't know how to aid or console her. His heart broke for her as her shoulders shuddered from all the emotions she let out. And his heart broke even more so now he had learned she was with child. A babe that was possibly Jack's offspring. He was certain a woman like Devon hadn't intended to get pregnant; she didn't strike him as the motherly nurturing kind. There was a world of difference between say a woman like Elisabeth Turner and the woman that was curled up on the floor in front of him. Jack should know she hadn't planned this. Gibbs reckoned that if he could figure that out, his Captain would have to know that as well.

"Come lass. Let me make ye a nice cup o' tea, hmmn? I'm sure he'll come around eventually." he said trying to sound cordially as he placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

Devon looked up at him, teary-eyed, not even bothering to wipe her tears away "Thank ye Mr. Gibbs, but I highly doubt 'e will. In fact; I know 'e wont. I've brought this on meself. He wants me to leave his ship and I'll do just that."

Her voice was little over a whisper so Gibbs had to strain himself really hard in order to make out the words she spoke. When he heard the tough woman sob again, he almost prayed to the Almighty in order to hear her weathered laughter again. He really did feel sorry for her. She looked up to him –her eyes still filled with tears- "I do respect him Gibbs, honestly I do. Same as I respect me own Captain, but I have a hard time showin' it to Jack, because o' what I feel…" she paused then as if she were gathering strength. "I love him. I really do love him, but that doesn't matter anymore. I'll go now. If this is what he wants from me, then I'll respect his wishes." she swallowed hard as she tried to get up from the floor. "The least I can do is respect his wishes." she whispered.

"Can ye manage?" Gibbs asked, concern lacing his voice. He held out a hand for her to hold on to, and Devon reluctantly took it. She got up slowly, trying hard to regain some sort of composure and looked around the ship. _His whole crew just witnessed me cryin' me eyes out... dandy._

"Aye," she said resolutely, although her voice gave her away. "I can manage. I've managed just fine before Captain Jack Sparrow came in me life and I shall continue managing fine now that he wants out of it."

Gibbs shouted to AnaMaria, who was at the helm, to bring _The Pearl_ a bit further around, so Devon could swing over easier. Ana looked at her friend and felt sorry for her. Well she felt sorry for both her and Jack to be more precise. Those two really needed to sort out their issues, but AnaMaria knew that both her Captain and her best friend were both too stubborn to give in. First Devon had broken up with Jack, then they'd gotten back together and now she assumed Jack had broken up with her. She sighed. Perhaps they truly were too alike to keep this relationship going, she thought.

"Lass?" to Devon Gibbs' voice seemed warmer then it had ever sounded. "Aye?" she responded, looking over her shoulders trying to regain composure.

"Ye really _do_ love him, eh?"

Devon swallowed hard, her eyes filling themselves with tears again "Jack's the first and only man I've ever loved Mr. Gibbs; surely that must mean somethin'. At least I thought it meant somethin' her bottom lip trembled again and a single hot tear trailed down her cheek. 'But I guess I was wrong then ,eh?"

"He'll come around, Devon, I'm sure of it' Gibbs said as he gently wiped the tear away from her face. 'If there's ever been a woman that I could picture Jack endin' up with, it's you... ."

"Thanks, but that won't matter much. I don't think he will come around... I've hurt him bad this time. I've gone too far…"

Ana steered the ship closer to The Hazard and Devon grabbed the rope and swung over. Part of her wanted to let go above the water and just get swallowed by the waves. Her throat closed due to her tears. Her life had just lost its value. It had always been freedom she had desired, freedom and fame, but she realized now that no amount of freedom could ever compare to love.

* * *

Jack's POV:

"Go!" he yelled again. Although he was angry with her, he added just a bit more volume to add to the drama.

Jack cursed himself and her when he heard the sobs coming from the other side of his doors. It was so hard to act this way, when deep down all he wanted was to hold her and tell her they'd find a way to make it work.

He knew she was pregnant, he'd known for a while now. Regardless of what kind of fool Devon might have taken him for, he was a smart man. A lot smarter then she gave him credit for. He had spent his time doing calculations and reminiscing about the time he had spent with Devon for the most part of the other night and it had been the first thing on his mind today. The only thing he had been able to conclude was that the child Devon was carrying was almost definitely his. They'd been together for months now and she couldn't be that far along. If Devon would have had any other kind of reputation he wouldn't even have a single doubt, but still she could have betrayed him while they were together. Right? He had done the same had he not? Well, technically they weren't together when he'd bedded that girl in Tortuga, but he had slept with her after sleeping with Devon… so yes, he had betrayed her trust -at least- that night. Although he had deeply regretted his actions that night, it had happened and he couldn't change the fact that it had. But he wasn't so naïve to think that a woman like Devon wouldn't do the same to him. As he continued arranging his thoughts about Devon he couldn't deny the fact that he was hurt. And it wasn't even the fact that he might be the child's father that hurt him. Not that he desired to become a father, Hell he hadn't even desired a relationship, but with Devon he really didn't have a choice. He'd been gone after they'd first met, although it took him ages to admit to his true feelings.

No, what hurt him, what really hurt him, was the fact that after all they'd been trough together, after all that they had shared, she still didn't seem to trust him. Well -truth be told- he wasn't the most trustworthy person around, but neither was she in that regard. But regardless of the fact that part of him understood where she was coming from, she had to be thought a lesson. Devon needed to learn that there were two persons involved in their relationship. And even though it broke his heart to hear her cry, he needed to keep up the act. He thought that if they were truly meant to be, if she was destined for him, she'd break. If he could tame the shrew just as she'd tamed him for some strange reason, the scales would be balanced and they'd be equals from there on. And this harsh treatment, a total shutoff from his side, he deemed would be the ultimate test. And not only to test her, he was well aware of the fact that it would be a test for himself as well. A cruel one, perhaps yes, but there simply was no other way dealing with Devon. Since – after all – it had only been after he had shown her _his_ weaknesses, only after _he_ had poured his heart and soul out to her, only after _he_ had admitted his true feelings for her, she had finally opened up about her pregnancy.

Devon on the other had hadn't shown her true colours to him, there had to be more to her then what he had seen thus far. He knew that if he hadn't told Devon how he felt about her she wouldn't have told him she loved him. Tough as she might be, she was also afraid of rejection. He wagered no man had ever rejected the illustrious Devon Duville, especially in her younger years. And now he had begun doing just that, rejecting her, and rejecting the baby she was carrying. It was a damned hard thing to do, since after all he _was_ Captain Jack Sparrow. And rejecting women any kind of women and Devon in particular, just wasn't his style. And a terrible waste of time at that, because the time he would spend rejected her, he could have spent making hot steamy love to her instead. But there was still the fact that she had managed to get herself pregnant and she hadn't been honest about that to him, she had tried to keep it hidden from him. What kind of a relationship could ever exist if there was no trust? No honesty?

He laughed a little to himself as he pondered about that word "honesty". They were pirates, being honest wasn't required in their profession. Being honest as a pirate could mean the death stroke. She had told him that herself as he recalled it correctly she had once told him _"We're pirates, Jack, we're supposed ta lie, cheat an' weasel our way out o' every given situation. Comes with th' job description… Did ye not read th' fine print?_" it seemed ages ago since she had told him that. It had been after he had found her treasure map. Again, something she had been hiding from him. Again, she hadn't been honest to him.

Honesty didn't suit a pirate, he agreed with her on that; however it was a requirement in a relationship, regardless if the relationship was between pirates or supposed decent folk. Jack needed to know that she trusted him, same as he needed to be able to trust her. They needed to be able to rely on each other and save the lying and the cheating for their daily life, not when they were together.

It truly was the ultimate test for the both of them, he mused, if he could continue what he had started. If he would be able to reject Devon and still feel these same deep feelings for her; the feelings that he had felt up till now, and if she would somehow let her guard down and learn to trust him, learn to love him… Well, then Captain Jack Sparrow be off the market, so to speak. He still couldn't picture himself being tied to anything or anyone for that matter. Though Devon had tied him before at some point, literally, and he hadn't minded that at all. He grinned at the recollection of that night. She was wild, unpredictable. She didn't expect him to marry her, now would she? She was so much like him - in a way – that he didn't think she would ask him that, or demand that from him. Give up his freedom? No, the thought, not when she craved freedom just as much as he did… What the Hell had they gotten themselves into?

If this didn't work then nothing would. If this wouldn't work it was a lost cause, and thus, regardless how hard it was to completely ignore the pain she was in – that and his own - at this point, it had to be done.

* * *

"Where'd ye go? Capt'n needs ye behind the helm! What in the name o' the Devil's gott'n into you, Duville?" Jameson asked when Devon landed on _The Hazard's_ deck again.

"Unsettled business. But I guess it's taken care of now. Ye won't catch me swingin' over 'gain. Tell Drake I'll take me station again." she said gravely.

"Ave ye been cryin'?" Jameson asked when he looked at her face. The very sight of her rattled him. Devon never showed emotions, well she showed smiles and wicked grins, but the one thing she never showed was the woman hiding beneath her mask. She never showed the woman she truly was

"Wha- what happened dear? Are you alright?" Jameson asked again.

Devon didn't reply, but slowly and determinedly climbed the steps to the helm, where she took over Hoggins' shift at the helm. The helm was the place where she had always felt in control, yet this time all that the wheel represented was the man that had just broken her heart.

Her hands gripped the pegs so hard her knuckles turned white.

She gave a firm determined turn on the wheel, parting _The Hazard_ further from_ The Pearl_.

She couldn't bear to be near his ship anymore. Everything about that black ship reminded her of him. Everything aboard her own ship reminded her of him. The shirt she wore still carried his scent and she knew that she could never be able to escape him.

As firm as her grip was, she felt her whole body trembling. She couldn't do this. She couldn't continue this quest for that stupid treasure when he was around. The pain was just too much.

She needed to have a talk with Drake as soon as she got a chance. There was no other way.

To Be Continued

**A/N I'm sorry to inform you that Linthilde (Shannon) still hasn't gotten back to me about the fact if she wants to continue being my Beta/Editor/Co-Author, so again this chapter is posted without her editing. I'm sorry it has taken me so long to update, but as some of you know my right shoulder is giving me Hell since October and all my typing has to be done one handedly with my left arm/hand and that's taking forever.**

**To Smithy: you asked in your review about Dutch Christmas traditions. Well I can say that our traditions are pretty much the same as yours. We get a Christmas tree (in our own house the tree arrives early December, because my husband is a Christmas-fanatic) and we decorate it together. This year we bought new decorations, since we re-decorated our living room, and the colors changed from gold and brown, to purple/pinks silver and reds. For Dutch standards the tree in the Tijhuis household is very heavily decorated. All our friends and relatives call our trees "American" since we know American Christmas trees are usually very well filled. And that's the way a tree should look. Not a simple shiny ball here and there, but we need a lot of shiny balls, bells, and various ornaments and trinkets on EVERY branch!**

**Then my husband and I usually spend Christmas Eve together at home and we spend the first and second day of Christmas together with our families. We cook a great big meal together that we all enjoy together.**

**Early December we do have another tradition that is very Dutch. Sinterklaas. This is on December 5th where we celebrate the birthday of Sinterklaas (another version of Santa Clause). He doesn't look like the cubby Santa you all know, but he looks like a pope, with the big hat and the dresses, he rides a white horse and has a long white beard. He is sort-of a patron saint for children and all the little ones get presents from him (that of-course their parents have to buy). The story is that all the good kids get presents and all the bad kids will be captured, put in a sack and sent to Spain (where Sinterklaas supposedly lives). The only other country I know of to celebrate this holiday is Belgium. You could google "Sinterklaas" to find pictures and more information about this tradition. Or check this Dutch website: ****.nl/**

**At last I would like to thank the following persons for adding me/my story to their favorites list. I will do this every new update as of now, since I am so grateful and honored that you have added me:**

**JileyisWayCrunk – ZeMuffinQueen - PotcWright21 - amanduh18 – EnchantedDream – Izzahbehllah - Pirate's Bonny Lass – lunetoon - and if I've left anyone out; I'm sorry, but you know you're out there!**

**Please, review to let me know what you think!**

**Hugs from Holland,**

**Angela**


	39. Leaving

_Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to the Mouse. Everything else is just a figment of my imagination._

A/N I want to introduce all of you to my new Beta-Reader/Editor; **Funkyflamingo**. She has been a loyal reader/reviewer from the start and she has kindly offered her assistance in editing my story. Since English isn't my native language I'm bound to screw up here and there and I would like to thank her for her help. Thanks ever so much hun! I really appreciate you're help! Funkyflamingo (Emma) is quite the writer herself and you should check her profile here on this website. There's a Sweeney Todd story that just screams to be read (if you aren't reading it already that is.)

Now, without further ado I present you the latest instalment:

"_You never really leave a place or person you love, part of them you take with you; leaving a part of yourself behind."_

_-Anonymous-_

**Chapter 39**

**-Leaving-**

Devon decided to face her fears and confront her Captain with her problem right away. She needed to get this heavy load off her chest, so she could discuss how to continue from there on. She hadn't informed Jack straight away, and she would regret that for the rest of her life. She couldn't risk that with her employer.

She had drummed on her Captains doors a few times before Captain Isaac Drake finally decided to call her in.

"Care to elaborate on yer actions earlier today?" he snapped before she had even set foot over the threshold. "Cause I can't wait for your explanation."

She looked up to him reluctantly "I- - well, I've had some unfinished business to settle…"

Drake met her gaze and put his fork down. "With whom might I ask?"

Devon made sure the door behind her was closed before she answered "Sparrow. But that's taken care of," she said and then she diverted the inquisition by commenting on how her Captain ate his lunch. "Honestly Drake, I don't know why ye insist on eating yer bread with cutlery? Takes forever that way…"

Isaac Drake ignored her comment on his civil manners. "Glad ye managed to take care of yer issues with Captain Sparrow, so now I can be assured of yer undivided attention?" He replied sarcastically.

"Aye, Sir."

"Excellent. Now tell me what's on yer mind," he spoke in a softer tone now. Isaac Drake wasn't known to hold a grudge, especially not when it came to Devon. She'd make his blood boil at times, but he could never stay angry with her for long – their friendship was too deep for that. "Pardon my saying so, Duville," he continued. "But ye look like Hell."

She tried to smile as politely as she could. "Ye're such a flatterer, Drake. Really ye have a way with words that makes a woman swoon just by hearing ye say them…" she sneered, despite the pain she was in. "However," she said, clearing her throat. "I do have something of importance I'd like to discuss with ye, if that's alright…"

Drake gestured to the chair in front of him as he continued eating his lunch. When he took another bite she took her opportunity.

"I'm pregnant." she announced candidly.

The words had left her mouth before she could think them over. Blunt as ever. Now why hadn't she been this frank and honest with Jack from the start? _Maybe then things would have turned out differently…_ she mused regretfully. _Then again, for how long had she actually known she was pregnant in the first place? _

Drake nearly chocked on his bite of bread and stared at her wide eyed, his cutlery falling from his hands. "Come again?" He coughed.

"I'm with child, Capt'n. I ain't too keen on telling ye, but I think you, being my superior and employer, 'ave a right to know." She said, fidgeting with the hem of her – Jack's – blouse.

"If this is another one of yer stunts, Duville, I warn ye, I'm not in the mood fer games!" Drake reprimanded. Devon could see the vein on his forehead stand out and she was certain she'd live to see the day that she had managed to make it pop.

"Unfortunately it isn't a joke or stunt, Sir. Coop's confirmed it. I jus' wanted ta let ye know. Now, if ye'll excuse me, I'll go relieve Jamie from the helm."

Isaac Drake was at a loss for words but recovered himself after a few minutes. "But how?"

"Slept with the wrong man at the wrong time."

"This is no subject to be joking about, Duville."

"Ye don't have to tell me that!" She snapped "I'm bloody serious about this, Isaac. I'd give me right hand fer this to be a joke or a stunt! However, this isn't a yarn. This pregnancy is an inescapable reality. Even Coop' doesn't know how it could've happened, but unfortunately fer me it _has._" She said, fondling the tress of Jack's hair that was still tied around her wrist. "Don't hold my honesty against me, not when you know this is so hard fer me."

"Sparrow?" He asked softly, trying to read her thoughts by looking into her eyes.

"Didn't keep track." She answered distantly, but Drake knew he was right when he caught the look in her eye just before she turned her head. He'd never seen that look. He had seen hurt, grief and pain swirled in the blue of her eyes.

"Go man yer station Devon, and have Mr. Cooper sent in. I want to go over this with him."

"Aye, Sir." She said and left the cabin. "Devon?" He called after her, causing her to stop and turn around. "Are you alright?"

"Aye, don't worry yer pretty head over me, Sir. I'm fine." She lied softly and then continued her way to the deck.

She had Shredder fetch Cooper and then relieved Jameson from his shift at the helm.

* * *

She'd seen Cooper arrive at Drake's quarters. She'd heard the doors close and since then much time had passed. Hours in fact if she guessed right. Two times the watch bell had tolled, if her memory served. But she'd been too lost in thought to really pay mind to the bell.

_What__'s there ta discuss this long? They can't change this situation any more than I could. Well Cooper could, but he won't …_

She glanced over her shoulder to steal a glimpse at the Pearl. It was still sailing a few knots behind them and she felt tears welling up in her eyes again.

"Duville? Capt'n wants to see you. I'm to take the helm again." Jameson called from below.

"Me shift ain't over yet. Tell him I'll be down when me shift is over."

"He said he needs ye down now Devon. I was to tell you it's urgent." Jameson interjected.

Devon slowly took her hands off the pegs. "Well, no arguing with that eh, Jamie?" And she traded places with Jameson before she made her way down the steps. To her it seemed as though she were headed for her own hanging instead of a meeting with her superior.

* * *

"Ye're position as first mate isn't relevant here, nor is your capacity, Devon. It's yer condition. I won't 'ave ye aboard the ship in this state while we're on this venture." Drake said sternly.

"So you deem it best ta get rid o' me all together?" Devon fumed in response. "How's that fer convenience!"

Drake ignored her comment and continued. "I've been over this with Mr. Cooper and he and I share the opinion ye should get yerself a room somewhere and stay there until we can guarantee yer safety. Both yer babe's and your own."

"Horseshit! No pirate Captain can guarantee any crewmate's safety! Is this some twisted way of gettin' rid o'me?" She spat with venom.

Drake sighed "No, Devon. Ye're too good a hand ta loose, but look at yerself. Ye can't protect yerself or others in the state yer in."

Devon bit her lip. "I never wanted this ta happen, Drake. Honestly. I wasn't even aware that it could, but ye can't just send me away now, I have every right ta be here, I've worked too damn hard ta get here…" She took the jug of water that stood in front of her and poured herself a cup. After a few big gulps, she felt a bit calmer.

Martin Cooper took Devon's rugged hands in his wrinkled own and rubbed them consolingly. "We know that Devon. Captain Drake does and so do I. We all deemed a pregnancy wasn't possible for a woman in your state. But Devon, you're a smart lass, Devon; you know we're right when we say you shouldn't be here. Maybe you could visit relatives? Or pick up your ... ehm... artwork again? We all know how much you have missed that. Unfortunately Singapore isn't an option given our bearings, but you are going ashore on an island of your choice, I'll grant you that, and that shall be the end of it."

Devon took another sip from her water "Fine! But jus' because ye're both right, don't mean I have ta like what I'm hearing!"

"I'm sure Captain Sparrow would agree." Drake interjected from behind her. She hadn't even realized he had left his seat.

"Jack?" Devon asked stunned "How did you know it's Jacks?"

Drake placed a warm hand on her tense shoulders. "Even a blind man can see what's been going on between the two of you, Devon."

Devon's eyes narrowed to slits. "There's absolutely nothing going on between us any more… it is over. Therefore Captain Sparrow has no say in this."

Cooper gasped "What do you mean? If Captain Sparrow is the father he most certainly has a say in this!"

"No Martin, that's where ye're mistaken, he does not have a say. Do I make myself clear?" Devon snapped, her tone clipped and harsh. "It's still my body ain't it?"

"But he is going to be a father Devon, surely he has a right to -" Martin Cooper interjected, but he couldn't continue, because Devon's raw voice cut him off harshly mid sentence."

"Captain Sparrow chose to forfeit those rights permanently this morning. He's made it perfectly clear he wants no more to do with me, so I shall grant him his wish. I respect the choice he made…" Her narrative trailed off as she studied her hands for a moment. She gently touched the bracelet Jack had made for her from his locks. She remembered what Jack had said when he had given it to her, _"… wear this as ye wouldn't wear a gold bracelet. Cherish it. Don ferget bouts me._

She would never be able to forget about him. She knew that as certain as she knew her Captain and Cooper were right. Getting away from Jack probably was for the best. She could at least try to forget about him when he was out of her life… and knowing Jack, he wouldn't come after her. Not after all that had happened, and especially not when there was a treasure to hunt…

A long stony silence passed before she finally spoke, both men looked up, startled by her rough voice. "The island of my choice would be Tortuga, drop me off there if you're so intent to get rid of me. I'll instruct DaCosta and the others, but ye better come back for me in a while. I'm only doing this to ease your conscience gentlemen, not because _I myself_ choose to do so. Jus' so we're clear on that."

Martin Cooper shook his grey head, but said nothing. This was not his place. He could only advise his Captain and their First Mate, but much to his regret, he had no say in the matter any more.

"Tortuga? You choose Tortuga?" Drake was positively aghast with her demand. "I'll not send a pregnant woman to Tortuga!"

Devon sneered. "Ye want me to go ashore right? Then at the very least drop me off somewhere I'm familiar. Tortuga is my home on land, besides Singapore. And as you well pointed out, Singapore isn't an option. So Tortuga is where you shall leave me."

Drake sighed. He knew there simply was no winning with Devon when she had her mind set on something and especially not in this matter. He was surprised that she even agreed to be put ashore, so he knew better than to press the matter. "Very well" he replied. "Then Tortuga it will be. But will you manage on your own? Do you want me to send someone along with you?" Drake asked although he full-well knew what her answer would be.

"I'm a grown woman, Drake." She growled. "I'm in no need o' a chaperone, never was and especially not at my age! I can manage just fine on me own. Always have…"

Drake rubbed his stubbly chin contemplating for a moment. "I'm not sure I should drop off a pregnant woman in Tortuga, even if she is the illustrious Devon Duville."

Somehow it didn't feel right. Devon was fighting the matter just as he had anticipated, but not with as much passion as she would have had in the past. She was too passive for his liking.

"Why's that?" she snarled, "Afraid I'll get raped? I can manage, I'm sure no man will want ta rape Devon Duville once she's turned into a big fat cow, but if some one tries, it'll be the last thing they'll ever try I'll tell ye that! If you will drop me off in Tortuga I can – at the very least- pick up me trade again," she explained. "Haven't drawn in ages…" _Besides that one time on The Liberty with Jack. Where I embellished the portrait of King George, _she mused and again fought back the tears that that remembrance triggered. "There must be parlours in Tortuga that could use on old hag that used to ink for a living I suppose, or I could pick up me singing' again…"

"What do we tell Captain Sparrow" Cooper asked somewhat nervously.

Devon looked up to Martin, trying to figure out what to tell him. For a moment she contemplated telling the ship's doctor to tell Captain Sparrow that he could try to stick his head up his butt to see what kind of an ass he had been, but then she thought the better of it. "You can tell him that he got his wish granted – and only if 'e bothers ta ask – and you shall tell him no more than that." She said gravely, wiping away a stray tear that had somehow made its way down her cheek, despite her efforts to keep her tears locked inside.

"You really do love him, don't you?" Drake whispered in awe as he studied his First Mate. She actually cried. She cried hot tears with him and Martin present. Devon had never shown weaknesses when anyone was around before. She was too proud for that. Too stubborn to let anyone see she wasn't made of marble or steel. His heart broke for her as he watched her.

Devon looked at her Captain, teary-eyed. "Hmm hmmm," she mumbled. "But that isn't relevant anymore. I'll go pack; we'll probably reach Tortuga before tomorrow."

"Is that really where you want us to drop you off?" Drake asked again. Still the berth of her liking didn't sit well with him.

"The least you can do is grant me that, Isaac." She said, deliberately addressing him by his given name again. "You should know that Tortuga at least feels homely and I won't be stuck on land. I can still feel and see the waves if I want, maybe I'll find a ship that's due for the Orient, so I can spend time with Lee after all."

"If you put it like that, Tortuga it will be." Drake said, although his voice lacked determination. Then another thought entered his mind as he looked Devon over. He just _had _to make sure. He couldn't help himself. He just _had _to ask.

"Why do you love him, Devon? How come he managed to accomplish what no man ever could before him? Tell me, I'm curious"

Isaac Drake didn't think she'd grace his inquiry with an answer and he made himself ready for the blow, but she surprised him. All she did was fondle with that rope-like bracelet on her wrist. _Another hint that she isn't herself_, he thought remorsefully.

The Devon he used to know; the Devon Duville he had signed on all those years back, would have had his head for a question like this one - Captain or not.

"He reminds me of my late father…" She said ruefully, her salt-water accent had fully vanished at this point. It confused him somewhat, because he'd hardly ever heard her speak without her usual drawl.

"That's probably what attracted me at first, that and he and I are so alike. I've never met a man who was able to read my mind the way he does... or rather the way he _did_. He was able to challenge me, not only with weapons but with wits also… The only difference between the two of us is that he likes to be underestimated, yet I myself detest that. Playing the fool seems to be working for him, while I hide underneath a mask of boldness. In the end it amounts to the same thing – playing something that we're not - only we have a different way of going about it. He pretends to be dense, I pretend to be strong … that fascinated me also… the way his mind works," she took a deep breath before she went on.

"I used to take him for the fool he feigns to be. That was my biggest mistake, probably, come to think of it… Would you believe I really thought he was that dense…" She chuckled bitterly. "I guess I know better now. He feels trapped, and even I can understand that feeling. Though, I can't deny that it hurts that he refuses to understand my point of view. It hurts that he refuses to take his responsibility, but he has to know I shall never demand that of him. I don't want to cage him. I wouldn't dare to do that, you know I wouldn't, right?" She asked to no one in particular. Before either of the men could respond, she continued. "Not when I relish freedom as much as he does... I just wanted him to know that it's his child I'm carrying and that I did not plan for this to happen. It really is _his_ child, Drake. I don't even have to second-guess that or do calculations about what time I've slept with whom. He made me faithful to him somehow; there was no one else but him..."

Both Isaac Drake and Martin Cooper were glued to Devon's chapped lips. The wild and rambunctious woman that acted so manly and unaffected really did feel emotions after all. It was shocking to see her finally showing them. Before this day, all she had ever showed any of them was anger, sarcasm and humour, never vulnerability. Never! She finally showed to be a woman with true feelings and a woman that was now hurt and confused.

Drake had always pegged his current First Mate to be invincible, tough and strong. He thought she would be able to survive everything, defy every quandary with that wicked smirk plastered on her face and then joke and tell tall tales about it afterward. But this Devon before them – perhaps the Devon she had been trying so hard to hide all along – was nothing like the woman he had the privilege of signing on all those many years ago. She was nothing like her bold alter-ego. Martin Cooper's thoughts were very similar to Drake's. Cooper had never once witnessed this woman in front of them being this candid; this open about what went on her mind. She was so honest that he could almost feel her pain himself.

Devon's gaze was unfocused, distant, as she continued her narrative. "I've never wanted this child – or any child for that matter- Isaac, you've known me for years, and you know how I feel about children, do you not?"

Drake nodded slowly, although he knew she didn't see him. She wasn't even paying mind to her Captain and Martin Cooper. It seemed she didn't even notice that her Captain and the ship's physician where in this very room with her. Devon seemed lost in her thoughts as she continued telling her story. "Yet somehow it happened, and I would give the world to turn back the time and prevent it from happening somehow, but much to my regret I cannot. Jack knows me; he has to know this is not what I wanted. I wanted us to be together, but able to live our own lives as we had done before we met. And now he detests me, but I understand his point of view. If the tables had been turned I would have done the same thing he has done. No one has the right to force you to make a choice that's not your own. He deserves his cherished freedom as do I. But unlike him..." She went on, her voice little over a whisper, "Unlike him, I won't be able to sense that total freedom again once this child is born, but that'll be my burden to bear. Not his, but mine alone."

Martin Cooper couldn't control his hands as they moved to take Devon's callused ones. The old man's thumbs rubbed the back of her hands to soothe her. She didn't look up to him, or even notice this friendly gesture. Her gaze was still distant, as another few tears trailed down her hot cheeks.

"He needs to make you an honest woman, Devon! That's what the man should do!" Drake reprimanded suddenly, causing Devon to break from her gloomy trail of thoughts. Followed by a whispered, "that's what I would do."

Devon laughed a little at this, in spite of everything. "No man on God's green earth will ever be able to make an honest woman out of me, Drake, especially not a pirate Captain. That aside, you well know that I don't desire to be wed."

"But that's what he should do, regardless of how you feel or what you desire. He should marry you, if only for the sake of the child."

Devon's soft laughter soon turned into a suffocating silence that could be felt throughout the ship. "In _my_ life, Captain. What _I _want is most important. I did not want to become a mother, bus as it turns out; I've had no choice in that. But I shall not marry Jack Sparrow, or any man for that matter, because it is what allegedly needs to be done. I couldn't marry Jack. I love him too much."

"So you accept the choice we made for you, then?" Drake asked again, still not quite able to believe she didn't put up more of a fight.

"Given the fact you outrank me and I don't want to cross Sparrow's path any more, yes it seems I do." She replied sternly.

And that was the last the two men in the room heard from her, because she left to pack her belongings. Devon told herself she would manage just fine on her own. The sooner she could get away from Jack the better it would be for all of them.

As she packed she stumbled upon a little black chest hidden at the bottom of her trunk and she took it in her hands to study it. It had been her mothers' jewellery box, but after her mum died her father had passed in on to her. Devon didn't care much for jewellery, but the box she had kept. Devon tossed the contents of the box onto her bunk and hid them in her pillow. All the pieces had memories attached to them, but she didn't need keepsakes to remember the woman that had given birth to her. There was no need for gold or precious stones, when she had memorized her mother on her skin. That way she'd always be with her. She took the box and found a few pieces of paper and placed them on her small desk. All she needed now was the inkwell that was hidden underneath her bunk. After she had finished writing her letters, she folded them neatly and placed one of the letters inside the ebony box. She took out her knife and finished the task she had given herself. It seemed only fair to do so, she thought, as she touched the tress of black hair around her wrist again; it had become a habit she realised. After she was done she tucked her knife back into her belt and closed the box. Then she placed the last letter, the one addressed to AnaMaria, on top of the box. She took a deep breath_. "This is it…"_

Devon packed her necessities, her array of weapons, treats for her dog, her tools, and a few clothes and then swung her knapsack over her shoulder. She didn't want to leave the ship, she didn't want to run from Jack only because loving him had proven to be difficult, but Drake could be mighty persistent and he was right – in a way – not necessarily the way he may think he was right, but Devon knew it was better if she left. She realised that now… And she really did miss tattooing - it had been ages since she'd put her tools into motion. Maybe the best way to forget about the Captain of _The Black Pearl _was to leave the surroundings that reminded her most of him.

"Come on Bullet, let's go." She said warmly as she gave her dog another little nudge.

The small muscular dog raised its head and stretched itself before getting up and joining its mistress.

She glanced over her shoulder one last time and had to swallow down a feeling. A sense of loss raged through her body, but Devon knew she had to go. She leashed her dog and left her cabin behind. She was leaving her ship and crewmates behind, but more importantly she was going to leave behind the only man she had ever let near her heart.

When she rose above decks, she noticed – much to her dismay – that the whole _Hazard_ crew had gathered. "Drake! I told you no one should hear of this!" She hissed to her Captain.

"Did you honestly think no one would miss you?' Drake explained. "I've told them about _your_ decision to leave the ship." He gained a fierce glare from his First Mate before he could even finish his sentence.

"Aye, Capt'n did but we don't believe that, Dee!" Shredder yelled. "Ye can't leave us now that ye've jus gotten back and promoted right?"

The crewmates all nodded and shouted at this. Devon swallowed. "I shouldn't mates, but I am. I need some time on me own, time to find me self again."

DaCosta stepped up "Does it 'ave ta do with Capt'n Sparrow?"

Devon glared at him. "My leavin' ye lot doesn't concern anyone other than me, boy. I want ta be ashore fer a while, tattoo a few more hairy sailors' bums, work on me skills some more and I shall be back before ye even realise ye miss me."

"Yer goin' back ta the Willing' Wench again?" Someone offered.

"I might, I don't really 'ave plans jus' yet. I'm really gonna miss the lot 'o ye, but I do need ta leave now." She said as she put both her knapsack and Bullet into the longboat that was readied for her. She saluted her crewmates one last time before stepping in the dinghy herself.

* * *

Drake had insisted on rowing her ashore himself, but Devon would have none of it. She was afraid she'd break down on him again so she had reassured him - lied a little - to make him understand there was no point in going with her. They had parted in a long embrace and he had kissed her softly on her cheek. He was a good man. A true friend.

When Devon was rowed ashore by Hoggins she took a final look at the two vessels she had grown so fond of. _The Hazard_ had anchored and so had _The_ _Pearl _right beside them. She didn't know what Drake had told Jack, but she had insisted that Isaac wouldn't tell him anything personal. DaCosta and AnaMaria would see to that. She had instructed her apprentice to give Ana the box. In the box – she had lied – were little keepsakes and woman's vanities that she wanted her good friend to have. DaCosta had agreed and promised her to do as she'd asked. She couldn't part with the man she had grown to love, without letting him know her side of the story. Seeing that he wouldn't talk to her or see her, she had tried to arrange her thoughts on paper. If he read it or not, or if he would even find it, all depended on him. Well, and on AnaMaria as well.

_Well, no more dwellin' on what could've been, Dee. Can't change the past, only alter the future. _

"I'll miss ye, Dee." Hoggin's said as he studied her features. "We all will. You 'n yer pup."

She smiled at him, as she petted her dog. "I'll – we'll - miss the lot 'o you too, dear"

"Capt'n Sparrow's been askin' 'bout ye, apparently," he said after a while.

Her head shot in his direction. "Why would I care?" She said, a bit too soon for her own good.

"Dee, I've known ye for a long time… this Sparrow has a hold o'er you apparently. The way ye look at that man… the way he looks at you... Jameson saw ye cryin' the other day, after ye've come back from _The Black Pearl_, what's 'e done ta make ye leave, Dee?" The older man asked as he stopped rowing and pulled the oars back in the dinghy.

Devon looked at him. "It's not what he's done, that made me leave, sweetie. We've both done things we regret, so I think it best that I stay out of his hair fer a while. Out of Drake's as well fer that matter," she said quietly.

"Drake ain't even got that much hair ta stay out of!" Hoggins offered, in an attempt to make her laugh.

"True, without the wig he doesn't... Listen, just because I'm goin' ashore, don't mean that I'm abandoning the lot of you, or the ship, or my duties. Drake feels its best for me to stay on land fer a while."

Hoggins looked her over once more, and pieces of the puzzle most of his fellow-crewmates had been wrecking their brains over, slowly fell together in his mind. "Ye're meant ta stay put fer a few months then, eh?" He finally said, taking the oars back in to his hands.

Devon gazed back at him blankly. _Does he know?_

"Ye walk jus' like my Annie did, ye do, when she was pregnant with our first – God bless 'er – I've noticed that when ye came back ta us; the way ye carried yerself…" The burly old man beamed a near toothless smile at her. "I might be old, but ye can't fool me, Dee. I wager Capt'n Sparrow's the father then eh?"

Devon was stunned, her mouth formed words she didn't utter – couldn't utter – because she'd lost her voice. Hoggins continued. "Not that it's any of me business o'course, but I thought ... ye know ... what with yer henhouse 'n all, I mean… after that attack… How?"

A few years ago, maybe even a couple of months ago the man wouldn't have dared to ask her these kinds of questions, but now… he felt talking about it might help her cope a little better. Of perhaps, if she'd start swearing and cursing she'd feel a bit better.

But no curses came; she just stared at him, a distant look in her eyes.

She spoke then, turning her head away from him as she gazed into the distance "I don't rightly know. Couldn't believe it meself… technically it isn't even possible."

"Did ye see Coop'?"

"O'course. Confirmed it 'e did. Ye're right. I appear ta be pregnant, but please Hoggins, not a word ta who doesn't know. Just say ye were wrong 'n leave it at that, please do this for me, no one has ta know I messed up this badly."

Again the old man pulled the oars back inside and patted her knee in a reassuring manner "Dee, ye didn't mess up, lass. No one ever thought something like this could happen. Look at how many lucky bastards ye've dragged between the sheets b'fore. Nothing happened then, now did it? Don't blame yerself fer this, Dee. Its jus' fate, bad luck that this happened to ye." Inwardly he knew that Devon couldn't hide her pregnancy forever. It was foolish of her to believe she could. If she were to return to them, her child would no doubt be with her. _If she decides ta keep it…_he knew Devon long and well enough to know that she wasn't cut out to be a mother. Devon didn't want a baby, yet she took really good care of that funny looking dog of hers, so perhaps there was a chance she would keep the baby once it was born… Yet if that baby stood in the way of her pursuing her career… _How does she intend to do that with a child nearby? _The old man's head was filled with questions, but he didn't verbalize them. Devon had enough problems to deal with. She didn't need him making it worse for her.

* * *

As they had unloaded her belongings, few as they were, and Bullet from the longboat they stood there in silence for a moment. Both of them were unsure what to do, what to say. They had been so intimate rowing here, that now - after they had reached their destination - everything seemed forced. Devon felt self-conscious and Hoggins felt just plain nervous. Devon stepped forward, after putting her satchel down, and pulled the brawny old man into an embrace. "I'll miss ye ye old goat. You 'n all the rest. Better come back fer me right?"

Hoggins pulled her closer to him. After all these years working closely together Devon didn't feel like a crewmember, but more like kin to him. "We'll be back, lass. Don't ye worry 'bouts it. An' don't think I'll betray yer trust. No one'll no o' yer … ehm... situation. I'll be silent as the grave, cross me 'eart," he said, crossing his chest with his hand.

She placed a hasty kiss on his whiskered cheek and took his hand in her own "Look after Stevie for me, will ye? Tell him I'll miss him and he still owes me that rematch in cards."

When she looked into Hoggins' eyes she spotted a tear and smiled warmly. "Don't go soft on me now, ye old salt! Ye're gonna make me cry as well!" But it was too late - she felt her eyes go watery and decided to leave it at that. Goodbyes were hard enough as they were. Crying only made matters worse.

"Take care o' yerself, lass," he said softly as she picked up her satchel again and leashed that funny looking dog of hers.

She replied, as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, "I will, no worries."

"Capt'n knows where ye're gonna stay?"

"Willing Wench I suppose. I know the keeper. And I'll jus' see where things go from there. I'll be fine, honestly. Got Bullet here besides me 'n everything! 'N old Coop's given me the name o' one of his associates I can visit just in case. He wrote a letter 'n all." She said, sounding a bit too cheerful for his liking.

'Everythin' will be fine, Hoggins. I promise."

* * *

Jack watched the longboat as it made its way to the shore. His jaw clenched when he spotted the woman dressed in black. He hadn't thought she'd leave. This wasn't according to his plan. She had to come back to him again, pleading him and begging him to talk to her and then he'd let her in and sort things out. But this… this was _not_ what he had anticipated.

She had to know he didn't mean what he'd said. She just had to be a bit more persistent, and she had to think about what she'd done to him by not trusting him and then come back into his arms.

Joshamee had informed him that there was gossip going about telling that Miss. Duville would be dropped off at Tortuga. At first he'd assumed Drake's change of course had to do with re-supplying before they headed off to the floating islands, but when he had confronted _The Hazards_ Quartermaster – he never could remember that name, Manny was it? Or Manfred? – either name was fine by him - anyway, only after he had talked with the man had he found out that what Joshamee had told him was true. She was actually leaving him. Part of him wanted to lower a longboat of his own and row after her, but maybe it actually was for the better. Let her cool off a bit. So he could move on with his life as well. The infatuation would wear off eventually, he mused. He kept on telling himself that over and over. Even when he barked to his crew to raise anchor, he kept on telling himself it was for the best. But never once did he actually believe it. He stood there watching her climb out of the longboat, when AnaMaria approached him. She stood besides him for a moment and he could feel her stare at him. "Ye're going to let her leave then, eh?" She finally asked.

Captain Jack Sparrow didn't dignify her question with an answer. "Fine, if yer so intent ta make the biggest mistake of yer life, then so be it." And with that she left. She would miss Devon. But at least her old friend had left her something, and she was curious what it was.

When Ana carefully opened her friends' envelope - the one that DaCosta had handed her along with the box –- she couldn't prevent her fingers from trembling just a bit. Devon hadn't talked to her after she had left The Pearl and now that she was leaving, reading her letter was hard. She had known Devon for ages, from when they were both mere girls. Devon had been a few years older, but she had been as good a friend as any. Devon had never been prejudice and she had never let her down. Ana didn't know what she would have done all those years back if it hadn't been for Devon. Devon Black had never doubted her, she had never held her back or put her down. Devon, in fact, had inspired her to become the woman she was today. Aye, she was a good friend. And so was Jack. Those two really deserved to be together. Yet AnaMaria knew the each of them well enough to know that that wouldn't be easy. The both of them were just too damned stubborn for their own good.

She unfolded the letter and read Devon's flowing handwriting carefully.

After reading the letter she took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. _I'll do as ye've asked me Dee, and I better hope it is worth it._

_TBC_

_

* * *

_

Trivia:

_Some of you have asked me in the past where Devon's name comes from and what it means. I've never answered those questions I believe. I can't remember who's asked me this but I thought I'd share a bit of background information about her name with you all._

_The definition and the origin of the name Devony (because that is her full name):_

_Devony means "dark-haired" and also "one who is brave and independent", the name also represents being very optimistic of nature. I thought the name Devony would be too sweet for a pirate lass (meaning the "ny" sound at the end… I just didn't find that suiting for a girl like Devon), so I shortened it to Devon. Plus I had to keep in mind the fact that Devon had been raised as a boy. Well her mother wanted her to be a proper lady, but Duncan Black had wanted a boy instead of a girl, so when ever Devon was aboard "The Dark Devotion" Duncan had led to believe he had fathered a son (as you can read in chapter 29.) Devon can be used as a name for both genders after all. Also a reason why I chose Devon to be the name of my OC._

_Devony is a name of Irish origin, because Devon's father: Duncan Black -Duncan means dark skinned fighter/brown warrior by the way- is Irish. His father was a Scotsman, his mother was Irish. Also a name I found very appropriate for a Pirate __Captain, which he was after all. So Devony originates from Ireland, Devon's mother –however- was the daughter of a French Aristocrat (Alphonse Duville). Therefore Devon's middle name is a name of French origin. Valérie. Which was derived from the Latin word _valere_ "to be strong". So there you have it, everything you may or may not have wanted to know about Devon Duville. _

_**A final note from the DuTchess:**_

_**Anyone who has taken the time and effort to leave a review has gotten personal responses from me as usual. I love you guys and you really make my day whenever you drop me a line. **_

_**I appreciate every single review so much, you wouldn't believe!**_

_**I'd like to thank the following people for adding me/my story on their favourites list. I am truly honoured to know you like the story!**_

_**Sparrowsxxswann – ExtremeAngelxJeffHardyFan – agila**_

_**And a special thanks to JacksOnlyWench; your pm was so heart-warming that I am truly and deeply honoured having you aboard!**_

_**Until next time,**_

_**Hugs from Holland,**_

_**Angela**_


	40. Is it ever really over?

Disclaimer; I don't own anything besides Devon, her Captain and her crew and my own imagination

_Disclaimer; I don't own anything besides Devon, her Captain and her crew and my own imagination. All the rest belongs to the mouse!_

**A/N I've got a little contest for you all. If any of you can spot the movie quotes ****(more of a movie-scene) I've hidden in this chapter and can tell me where the quotes are hidden and what movie they're from you get the next chapter e-mailed to you before it's posted online! You can either leave a review or pm me if you have the answers!**

_Above me there's an endless sky_

_But the clouds are never still_

_In every way like you_

_Do we love the thing we kill?_

_Can we fight the doubts we keep alive_

_Can we overcome all fear?_

_Is the battle ever over_

_Is it ever really over?_

When - Ilse de Lange

(Album The Great Escape)

**Chapter 41**

**Is it ever**** really over?**

Ana had hidden her friend's little ebony chest somewhere safe for the time being. She needed to talk to Jack soon, but her Captain was no where to be found. She knew Jack didn't like the fact that Devon was leaving, regardless of what he led on. It was obvious that he cared for Devon. And AnaMaria knew that he must also care for their unborn child. Jack Sparrow might have fathered more illegitimate children than the one Devon carried, but this was the only one he actually knew of. That had to count for something, she believed. Yet Captain Jack Sparrow had made the foolish choice of showing Devon his anger instead of his affection. AnaMaria assumed that if Devon had known Jack was in pain maybe she wouldn't have left. And if Devon hadn't been so self absorbed in the first place then maybe it wouldn't even have come this far. What a fine couple those two made, Ana snorted to herself. Her Captain and her childhood friend shared the strangest relationship Ana had ever seen in her whole life. The both of them were pirates and there was a treasure to hunt, but all Jack did was sulk and Devon had decided to run away. Some pirates they were.

The _Black Pearl's _First Mate had intended to casually slip the box into Jack's cabin, but now that she'd given it a bit more thought she knew that would take too much time.

She then decided to hand it to Jack as soon as she could find him.

"Joshamee, 'ave you seen our Jack?" She asked Gibbs as he strolled past her.

"He's on _The Hazard_, talkin' to Captain Drake," the Quarter Master explained. "Didn't sit well with him that the lass left. He'll be wantin' some answers from Drake, I wager."

Ana shook her head. "Finally he's come to his senses. Took him long enough."

Mr. Gibbs agreed. He himself hoped Jack would go after her. Despite everything he had ever thought of Devon she seemed to be honest about her feelings for Jack. Gibbs was certain now that Jack wasn't one of her trophies - he knew that Jack cared about the woman very deeply, regardless of what he had led her to believe. The sooner those two sorted out their feelings, the better it was for all of them.

* * *

"Isaac?" Jack called when he drummed impatiently on the oak cabin doors.

"Aye. Who's there?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow, can I 'ave word?" Jack wanted to barge into his fellow Captain's chambers, but managed to control himself.

"Certainly. Please, step in ta me quarters Capt'n Sparrow." Isaac Drake responded as he opened the door to lead Jack Sparrow into his chambers.

"Sit yerself down." Drake said pointing at the chair opposite from him.

"Don't mind if I do," Jack said as he took off his hat and placed it upon Drake's desk.

"Now, what is on yer mind, Jack?" Drake asked patiently as he took his time studying the Captain thoroughly. He looked somewhat pale and his eyes had a reddish hue to them. "_I think the dear Captain actually does care about ye, Duville…" _He thought. It was obvious Jack was upset, although he managed to hide it quite well.

"Am I ta understand that Miss. Duville is ta go ashore and stay there fer t' rest o' our voyage?"

Isaac Drake cleared his throat "Aye that would be correct. She's left about a good hour or so ago."

"What's she done wrong, Drake? If you don't mind my askin'. No one'll tell me, but surely we … _you _need her. Do you not?" Jack asked casually, but the slight hint of anger lacing his voice wasn't lost on Drake.

Drake pressed his fingertips together slowly yet very deliberately, suppressing a small smile in the process. "_I knew this would work,"_ he smiled to himself. After taking a deep breath he continued. "The fact that we need her or not isn't relevant. She _herself_ wanted us ta drop her off at the island of Tortuga."

Jack glared at the other Captain. "Ye're lyin'! Devon ain't the one ta abandon ship nor 'er duties! She'd never leave willingly! Not while in the middle o' an adventure like this one!" He shouted, although somewhere deep down he supposed his own recent behaviour had made Devon leave her ship.

"I'm not sayin' she's abandoning ship, Sparrow, I'm just tellin' you that she herself has requested a leave." Drake's voice was levelled, even though he couldn't help but be pleased with the direction this conversation was going in.

"What's going on 'ere? She jus' made First Mate; ye cherish the ground she walks on... ye're obviously tiptoeing around me… you've got something up your sleeve and I demand ta know what it is!" Jack shouted slamming his fist on Drake's desk so hard it made the inkwell rattle.

Drake was content with the way his plan had worked out indeed. Jack Sparrow had a glint in his eyes every time he spoke of Devon. Regardless of what he might have told Devon after she had informed him of her state, it was clear to Drake that Captain Jack Sparrow _did_ – in fact - actually care about her if not more. If his fellow Captain wouldn't have asked questions about Devon he would have known that Captain Jack Sparrow did not deserve Devon's affection. Yet, now that the man was sitting here, demanding answers and looking like he'd just watched his ship get sunk or commandeered, he knew that Jack really did care about Devon. Otherwise he obviously wouldn't be here…

All that Isaac Drake had intended by sending Devon away was that Jack would think about what he had done by rejecting her. And that Devon got some time to calm down and sort out her own feelings. Drake knew that his current First Mate was very much in love with the Pirate Captain that sat across from him. She had denied it for quite a long time, but he had known by the look in her eyes. And now that Devon had shared her deepest emotions with him and Martin Cooper, he needed to know where Jack stood in all this. It was hard for him to see Devon hurt. If he could give in to his urges, he'd punch Jack's lights out - despite his calm nature. But he knew that wouldn't solve anything. Well, it would let off some of his anger perhaps, but it wouldn't solve the matter between Devon and Jack.

Captain Drake was very subtle in getting his answers, because he knew he had to be. Drake wanted to find out if Captain Jack Sparrow had feelings for Devon after all. He figured Jack did. He knew Jack Sparrow, or rather Jonathan Sparrow, since they'd been crewmates and both employed by the Royal Navy. "_Ironic that we both became a thorn in the King's eye now." _Drake pondered for a moment as he thought back to his younger years. And if his memory served him right, Jack Sparrow wasn't known for showing his emotions. Same as Devon, Jack Sparrow didn't share his feelings with anyone. They both had a way with words, but not when it came to personal matters. No, Drake knew he had to get the answers he needed without directly asking Jack. If he did feel for Devon there may still be time for him to go after her. If not, he would leave it at that and give Devon a chance to get over him and move on with her life.

Now he just had to make sure he was right. He looked at Jack carefully. "Alright Jack, I suppose you have a right to know. I've fallen in love with her. I've been in love with her ever since she became part of my crew. I've kept it to myself for years, thinking the better of it. But after losing her…" Drake paused then – for theatrical purposes - before he continued "When she came back to me, I just had to show her my affection. Making her First Mate wasn't enough. I've told her how I feel." Drake watched Jack's jaw clench as he went on. "She wasn't too happy when I told her. She told me she couldn't work for me anymore and demanded that I drop her off in the next port. There, that's the truth of it! Satisfied?" Drake snapped suddenly.

Jacks eyes bulged as he heard Drake's story. "You're in love with _my_ tart?"

"What'd ye mean 'my' tart?" Drake asked, adding a bit more drama, now that Jack had confessed his feelings to him without even realizing it. "She's MY crewmember; she serves me!"

"She's mine Drake. Better get comfortable with that idea." Jack snapped angrily. "And now you've made her leave!"

Drake raised his palms in defence "Can't change what I feel, mate."

The look Jack gave him was positively livid. To Jack it seemed as if his old friend had stabbed him in the back and driven away the only woman he had ever loved. He deliberately forgot about the fact that he himself had turned Devon down and told her to leave him at this point. His jealousy got the better of him.

"Well ye damn well better change it, 'cause I won't stand fer another man eyin' _my_ girl!"

Suddenly Isaac Drake forgot his act as he was shocked with the obvious truth coming out of Sparrow's mouth at last. "Are you sayin _you_ love Devon, Sparrow?"

There was a silence that lingered for a few moments before Jack Sparrow opened his mouth, knowing he had just confessed that he did love her. "Yes, yes Isaac. As a matter of fact I do." Followed by a gravely whispered, "and I've been a fool not to tell her that."

Drake smiled at this "Then leave Jack. I believe we have nothing more to discuss."

The smile on Drake's face was lost on Jack. He was caught in a whirlwind of emotions and he wanted to return to his Pearl to think of what to do. _Is there still time? Will she forgive me?_

_

* * *

__Captain's Quarters on the Pearl:_

When Jack walked into his quarters he poured himself a mug of rum and sat down at his writing table. He downed the mug's contents in one big gulp and noticed a little black chest that was placed upon his desk as he put the mug back down. "_What's this?"_ He pondered. As he searched his desk further, he found an envelope stuck underneath his paperweight. The envelope looked plain enough, but his eyebrow rose a tad when he noticed it was addressed "Captain Jack Sparrow" in flowing handwriting. His stomach lurched and he could hear his blood pumping in his ears. He extracted a small knife from his belt and ripped the envelope open. With unsteady hands he unfolded the piece of paper.

_Jack,_

_In this box of finest ebony;_

_The darkest shade of wood_

_Lay__ a token of my affection._

_I give you, the only thing I could._

_Forgive me for the words I did not speak,_

_For the things I did not do._

_I'm sorry that I ruined what we've had,_

_Please know that I understand your point of view._

_I treasure all that we have shared,_

_And I cherish all that we've been through,_

_I really do respect you Jack,_

_Just as much as I still love you._

_Devon_

Jack glanced at the small box again that stood on his desk in front of him. His dirty fingers trembled when he touched her letter once more. The emptiness he felt inside told him he wouldn't be able to forget her no matter how hard he was going to try. God only knows how many times he had tried that before, even while hatred and irritation filled his heart when he thought of her, she had never – not even for a brief moment - left his mind.

Slowly he touched the dark polished wood of the box. It was as dark as his _Pearl_. Gently and with trembling fingers, he opened it. Inside the red velvet lining he found a black braid, wrapped with leather. Underneath the tress of hair lay another folded piece of parchment. Jack picked up the tress and smelled it. A familiar fragrance found its way into his nostrils, a mixture of salt, sea and gunpowder - a scent that made him smile a little; her smell. He held her tress of hair in his hand as he unfolded the letter that was inside. It was another poem entitled "Acknowledgement." _Never knew she had that in her. I knew she was artistic, but __I never expected anything like this__. Why didn't I let her in? Why didn't I hear what she had to say? I should have let her explain… God knows what she must've gone through…_

His eyes studied the words that were written in her gracious flowing handwriting. She had given him something in return for the 'bracelet' he had given her, but foremost she had given him a chance to look inside her heart and mind.

While they had been together she seemed to have changed over time, no longer the fierce cocky bitch she was when they first met; she had shown her softer side more and more often as time had passed. He had done the same, but now, as things had gotten so terribly out of hand, he had driven her away. He had never planned to make her leave. _Never!_Jack swallowed and started reading the words that she had written, his eyes focussing hard on the words, since some of the writing was blurry. Something told him she had cried while writing this.

_Acknowledgement_

_In the apocalypse of my heart,_

_Where no soul has ever gone before,_

_You have your safe haven._

_In the stillness of my thoughts,_

_Where I never dared to look,_

_You have planted your flag._

_In the enclosure of my mind,_

_Where I've tried to block you out,_

_You remain, embedded in memories._

_In the well defended core of my body,_

_Where crimson coloured emotions flow,_

_You are the veins that carry my senses._

_In the darkest truths I tend to hide,_

_Where they're safe from preying eyes,_

_You come and see right through me._

_In the vault of my secret tenderness,_

_Which I do not very often show,_

_You come and break the code._

_In the masquerade of my life,_

_Where I desperately keep up the façade,_

_You are there and reveal my gloomy enigmas._

_In the dungeons of my spirit,_

_Where I fight battles I can never win,_

_You are both my opponent and my ally._

_In the isolated solitude of my dreams,_

_Where bitter sweet oblivion claims me,_

_You are there, like a mirage in my nothingness._

_In my constant enduring defiance,_

_Where I struggle to survive,_

_You are there, relentlessly denying my denial._

_In the bare nakedness of my soul,_

_And in the ivory tower of my pride,_

_It's always you I find._

_It's always you…_

A single tear slid down the tip of his nose and fell upon the page before him. It fell on the word 'ally' and it mingled with the ink. He couldn't help himself as he blinked to resist the tears welling up in his eyes. Captain Jack Sparrow hadn't cried since he'd been a boy. Not even when he'd lost the Pearl to Hector Barbossa had he shed a tear. Angry as Hell he'd been, but he hadn't cried. And he had never cried over a woman. But this was different; this was deeper - deeper than the love he had for his ship he realised. He had somehow managed to recover after losing his Pearl – twice. But he knew that he couldn't bear spending 10 years apart from Devon.

Devon had somehow found her way into his heart and he knew losing her and recovering from this loss was going to be hard. Very hard. And the worst part of it all was that he had told her to get lost. He knew now that Drake's story had been a ploy to coax him into admitting his true feelings about Devon. Isaac Drake was a smart man indeed. A lot smarter than he had been lately. He sat there for a few moments re-reading every written word, wiping his eyes, before he threw his cabin doors open and called for AnaMaria.

* * *

"When was she aboard? Why haven't you informed me she was aboard?" Jack growled at the young woman.

"She hasn't been aboard, Jack. Not after ye've sent her away. She asked me to give you the box and the envelope." Ana answered truthfully. She could tell her Captain had been crying but she wasn't going to comment on it.

"When did she give it to you then? Damnit I want answers AnaMaria!" Jack said, still holding the tress of Devon's hair.

"Her apprentice handed it to me. I got a letter from her, in which she asked me to give you the box and the letter. What's going on Jack?" Ana asked carefully.

"I've made a big mistake." Jack breathed.

Ana placed a hand on her Captain's arm and wisely didn't say "I told you so."

"I need to go after her. Tell Gibbs to ready a longboat; I'm going ashore."

Ana looked up to her Captain "Aye Sir!"

He could hear her sharp voice roar and he saw Gibbs and his crew jump into action. He hoped there was still time. He hoped fervently she would give him another chance and he cursed himself several times over for being so stubborn.

* * *

Devon entered the _Willing Wench_, Bullet following in her wake, and strolled towards the counter. When she pulled herself onto a barstool she dropped her satchel heavily on the floor. She buried her face in her hands, when a voice came up beside her.

"Hey there, can I get ye a drink?"

Devon grumbled, not even bothering to look up. "Wow! I've never heard that one before. You really blow me away with your creativity."

"Well I…"

Devon took a deep breath, trying to find the patience to handle this idiot. Did he not see she didn't need this kind of shit right now? She sarcastically replied, "well I...uh...you're recovery is even better! Do you even care at all who I am? I mean I could be the Antichrist or have the intelligence of a _bottle _but unfortunately those are not the matters the male penis ponders. So please...tell me. Why did you walk all the way over here to ask to get me a drink?"

Victor sighed "Well...because...I'm the bartender. If ye'd look up ta me, ye'd recognize me, Devon."

Devon did look up and couldn't help but smile a little. "Victor. I'm sorry, dear. I just thought…"

"Doesn't matter." He said waving his hands in a dismissive manner. "You're about the last person I'd expect to see here…" He said flatly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Devon straightened her shoulders and looked at him "I need a place ta crash. Ye still rent out rooms? Fer me alone that is. No visitors. I want to pick up me art again." Her tone was clipped and Victor was curious what had made her leave her ship.

"Ye in trouble, Duville?" he asked while he poured her a mug of rum. She hadn't told him what she'd have to drink yet, but he knew what to get her. And she sure looked like she could use a bit of rum.

She smiled a little before pushing the mug away – darn hard thing to do because she wanted nothing more then drink herself into a stupor – "Trouble's me middle name, Vic. A gel like me always finds 'erself in trouble one way or th' other."

"Ye're not gonna drink that?" He asked wide-eyed when he saw her push away the mug of his finest rum.

She shook her head, her mess of curls bobbing in her face. "Nay, given up drinkin' since last time I was 'ere."

He couldn't help but smile at her answer "Ye were out cold last time. I've never seen ye so drunk. Loaded ta the gun walls ye were."

She gave him a stern glare "Don't remind me… So?"

Victor looked at her, confusion written across his face "So? So what?" he asked.

Devon took a deep breath, she wasn't known for her patience and in the state she was in now, and she found herself being very close to lashing out. "Do ye 'ave a room fer me or not?" She snapped.

The barkeep leaned into her. "Ye've gotta work on that temper o' yers if ye're goin' ta be stayin' 'ere, doll. Don't want ye scarin' off the customers."

His eyes met Devon's and he found himself unable to look away. He had always been fascinated by her since the very first day he had met her. There was something in her eyes that just captivated a man right from the start. And when he had come to learn her hedonistic lifestyle he had been fairly sure he'd be able to get her into his bed one day, but much to his chagrin that day had never come. But now, now that she had come to him, it would be a waste sending her away. He'd give her a room and maybe then he could get closer to her. Yes, he was married, but Lola wouldn't mind, he wagered. Devon looked like she needed a friend; a shoulder to lean on and he would damn well offer her his shoulder, his friendship and a whole lot more if she were to let him.

A slow smile curled her lips as she listened to Victor. "I take that as a 'yes' then?"

Victor wiped his hands on his apron "Yes, Devon, ye got yerself a room. Now if ye don't mind me askin' why aren't ye on yer ship? I don't see any o' yer crewmates, or are ye the only one takin' a leave?" The question was innocent enough but Devon saw right through it. He was far too nosy and she'd be damned if she were to inform him of the fact that she had finally managed to hit rock bottom.

"Needed a change 'o scenery, Vic. I want to work on me artwork again. I've tattooed almost everyone on _The Hazard_ and now that we were headed off ta free waters, the swayin' ain't really helpful. I was hopin' ta to a bit o' inkin' while I'm 'ere…"

He looked at her again. She seemed to be a bit fuller in her face and around her waist since last time he'd seen her, but she still looked good. Funny that was, Devon wasn't a typical beauty. Not the sort of woman that most men dreamed about at night, but there was something about her that just fascinated him. Everything about her persona radiated danger - perhaps that was her secret. He knew that that certain something fascinated a lot of other men too; a whole lot of other men. While Devon had worked for him in her younger years, she'd never sold her body so to speak, but still she managed to wrap a decent amount of men around her finger and lure them into her bed. Unfortunately he was never one of them and he had regretted that ever since. He didn't know what exactly it was about this woman that sat on the barstool across from him that drew him to her, but all he knew was that it took just one look of those blue eyes and he was gone. Not to mention her voice…

That reminded him of the nights _The Willing Wench_ had been booked solid when she had performed on stage. "Ye could sing again…" He offered.

She tilted her head a bit. "I could, but I won't…"

"Then how would ye suggest ye pay fer the rent?" Victor countered.

"You'd actually _charge_ an old friend fer a room?" She asked in mock shock as she twirled a strand of hair between her fingers.

"Well… I" The barkeep stammered. His mind raced. Yes, she could be qualified as an old friend, she had been working for him in the past and she looked like she was in trouble. Yet, he needed the money. Business was slow these days...

Devon noticed the deep wrinkles on the brow of the tavern's keeper "I'll pay ye, Victor. With actual money in fact." She said, jingling a little pouch of coins in front of him.

He snorted. "With _stolen_ money."

She laughed. "Victor, ye run a tavern in Tortuga! Every payin' customer steals the contents of their money pouch one way or the other. Pirate, pick-pocket, smuggler or the so called 'honest merchant' who re-sells stolen goods… As far as I know, money is money, righ'? And I'll be tattooing again. I'd actually earn some money legally if that's yer concern."

The blonde bartender shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Now be a dear and hand me the key. I need ta get some rest…"

He turned to take a familiar looking brass key off the wall and handed it to her. "Need some company?"

Her eyes met his and she smiled softly. "I guess I can manage sleepin' on me own after havin' done so fer nearly thirty years. But if ye want ta accompany me upstairs, feel free ta carry me bag."

He had the decency to look shocked, bless him. "Yer thirty?! Never knew ye were that old…"

He gasped when she forcefully hit him in the stomach. "I'm not old! I'll 'ave ye know I still look twenty-five at least!"

The barkeep's eyebrow rose ever so slightly and he had to repress a smile. "At least!"

* * *

Victor had been kind enough to let her have her old room, one that was a bit larger than the ones the girls used for entertaining their customers. Devon had never entertained her customers in that way, but next to the occasional performance on stage, she had also tattooed from her room in the _Willing Wench._ Victor had agreed she got one of the lager rooms, if he could get a share of her profit. That had seemed fair enough. Yet now that she was paying him for the room, she wouldn't have to worry about hassling with her prices in order for him to have the lowest cut. All the money she would make would be hers to keep. That thought was reason for a little smile.

She used to have little desk for all her utensils and an armchair and a narrow table to work on. She was amazed to see they were all still there. There even was a stack of clean linens and binds. It seemed as if she'd never left. Granted, she'd still preferred to have been able to stay with Lee, since Lee almost felt like family, but this place would do for the moment. She'd be able to get her life back on track here.

Devon installed herself in her old bed and her little French bulldog had made itself comfortable beside her. When Devon reached to pet it, it snored loudly as it stretched itself and Devon smiled warmly. At least Bullet was reliable. Bullet would never leave her or send her away. She knew she depended as much on the dog as the dog depended on her.

Victor had called one of the wenches – she couldn't remember the girl's name, but luckily it wasn't the petite blond Jack had his way with the other time – to help her get her luggage – as Victor had called it – upstairs. The girl had been expecting a tip, Devon knew, but she hadn't given the girl anything other than a simple "Thanks."

Devon had been working here when the girl was still on her mum's tit for crying out loud.

_Mums tit..._ _Oh Sweet Jesus, what am I gonna do? I can't raise a child. Even if I __do manage __to carry it full term I have no clue what to do… I wonder if Jack found the box… probably not. Or if he has he's ripped the letters and tossed them into the fireplace no doubt. Why did it have to become so complicated…_

She felt her eyes become watery again and for once she didn't curse her tears. She welcomed them wholeheartedly. Lord knew she needed a good cry to finally let it all out.

* * *

As Jack rowed himself to shore he thought about what to say to her. What could he say? Did it even matter what he said? If she was anything like him, she'd not even bother to let him talk to her in the first place. God, he'd been such a fool. There he had found the one woman that seemed perfect for him. One woman that could keep him entertained, intrigued and fascinated just by looking at him. Perhaps the only woman he'd ever had genuine feelings for and he had basically told her to go to Hell. _So much fer me and my perfect plans_. Maybe this had been the only time a plan of his had backfired come to think of it. And this may just be the only time his sharp-tongue and fast talking couldn't help him…

Ana had informed him Devon most likely had gone to the Willing Wench since she had worked there in the past. Jack hated the fact that she might have gone there. That barkeep was far too interested in Devon if he recalled correctly. As he thought about that night he not only hated the barkeep but himself as well. He had betrayed Devon that night. He hoped Devon didn't run in to the blonde strumpet he had bedded or things might get even more out of hand.

When he reached Tortuga's harbour, he tied the longboat and made his way to the Willing Wench. As he flipped open his battered compass, he knew he was going in the right direction. At first he had taken long deliberate strides, but the closer he came, the more his nerves got a hold of him.

When he pushed the door open he hoped to find her sitting on a barstool near the counter, but when he did a quick scan of the tavern he saw this wasn't the case.

He strolled towards the counter, charmingly evading the wenches that approached him left and right. Yes it was rather nice to see her again. _Go away! _No, he didn't think he'd need her service, thank you very much. _Move!!_ Oh yes, he did notice she'd lost a bit of weight. _Let go o'me! _Yes, that colour did bring out her eyes. _Get out o' me way ye silly goose!! _

"I'll have a rum, please." He said to the barkeep once he'd finally reached the counter with most of him still in tact.

Victor's brow rose when he saw the Pirate Captain who had escorted Devon the last time she had been in his tavern. Captain Jack Sparrow had always been good for business in the past. However, something told him the Captain wasn't here for the rum or his girls this time. He no doubt came to find Devon. _Did Devon sign on with him?_ He thought. Yet somehow he couldn't believe Devon would leave Captain Drake. Then realization hit him. What if the rumours he had heard were actually true? What if Devon and Captain Sparrow were lovers?

A smuggler that had come from Bermuda had been boasting about how Captain Sparrow had been seen with the Dragon Lady in a local inn and they had been rather _intimate_ there. Then he had heard more rumours from time to time, from different sources linking Devon and Sparrow together. She'd left the _Willing Wench_ with the Captain last time she had been here and she had sailed off with him. He pondered that for a moment when he took his time to study the Captain for a bit. That would explain why Devon didn't want to share her reasons for being ashore and looking for a place to stay. _She said she needed a place to crash, right? Oh well, this could prove to be interesting… _

Victor poured the Captain a mug of rum and placed it in front of him.

"There ye go Capt'n." Victor said, placing the goblet in front of the man.

"Thanks mate," came the muttered reply, before Sparrow downed the cups contents in one long gulp.

He held the cup out again.

"Refill?" The barkeep asked, already lifting the bottle to pour another mug. The Captain didn't answer, but simply nodded.

Jack immediately drank it dry again. "She been 'ere, mate?" He asked bluntly after putting the mug down.

Victor decided to play coy with the pirate. "Who do you mean, Sir? The lovely blonde ye were with last time? I'm sorry to inform you that I had to let her go. No good fer business she was. I'm sure there's another girl here that will strike yer fancy."

Jack reached across the counter to grab hold of the man's collar. "Not one o' yer wenches, ye dense prick. I mean Duville! Ye've seen her?"

Victor gasped. "I- I can't breathe."

Jack released him just a little, so the man could recover from his grip enough to talk. "Well?"

* * *

Devon decided that feeling sorry for herself didn't do matters any good. If she wanted to move on, she'd best get started this very minute. The first things she unpacked were her tools and her ink. Now that she had all her items arranged upon the small desk she noticed she needed a few more essentials. She was low on ink and she could do with a few more needles. _Damn me fer bein' so pre-occupied. I could've taken some from Coop' he wouldn't have missed just a few needles. _If she seriously wanted to start over, she needed to be well prepared. If she was in luck – truth be told she could just do with a spot of luck soon or she'd completely go insane – there'd be potential customers by the bucket-load tonight.

She quickly scanned the items on the table and took an inventory. She'd best get the things she needed soon and steal a bottle of gin from Victor's storeroom for disinfection. For a moment she contemplated stealing a bottle of rum, but she knew she wouldn't be able to resist drinking from it if no customers were to show tonight. She didn't like gin very much, so that was a safe bet. _Gin. I drank gin on the "Liberty" with Jack. There he is again. Jack. Damnitall. Perhaps there's another strong liquor I can snatch that doesn't remind me o' him. _

"Bullet sweetie, I'm gonna pop out fer a bit. Ye jus' stay 'ere. I'll be right back. Bring ye back a nice bone perhaps, alright?" she whispered to the snoring dog that was sprawled on the mattress with all four paws in the air.

He tilted his square shaped head a bit, opened just one eye and lapped her across the face with his pink tongue, before he continued his prior activities. Devon gently rubbed her bulldog's belly before she closed the door behind her. Knowing it took less time, she descended the stairs and went out the back.

TBC

_A/N _

_I hope you all liked this chapter, because I was very very stuck. I didn't know where to go, because I've plotted the whole story out when I started writing this story (4 years ago!!), but Devon's pregnancy wasn't part of how I initially planned the story to go. It just sort of happened and I went with that. And it worked for a while, but now it gets harder and harder to write. I have to fit her pregnancy and everything that comes with that into the story somehow and work my way around it, to set course to the original plot again. And that's hard work I tell you. I just went blank. I curse the day Captain Jack Sparrow got her pregnant! Damned pirates! I hope everything will work out in the end. I'm just glad I got my muse back. Watching the Curse of The Black Pearl a couple of times last weekend sure helped. I don't know about you, but that's still my favourite one from the trilogy. Well, I liked all of them and part of me longs for a fourth instalment, but I get most inspired after watching the very first movie._

_I'd like to thank __**krazydragon57 – relleomylime - dizzy1993**__ for adding me or my story to their favourites! Thank you guys so much! It really means a lot to me! If I forgot anyone I'm sorry, but you know you're out there!_

_And to __**Viper**__ I do remember you! Thank you for leaving a review again. It means a lot to know that you're still reading! _

_And a special thanks to __**JacksOnlyWench**__. __Thank you for your kind words hun! And yes, I am a dog person! Very much so. Sometimes I actually prefer dogs over people, does that sound odd to you? They are so pure and their love is unconditionally. Well they might have ulterior motives such as getting attention, getting fed and getting to be played with, but in general I love how pure they are. And I never mind your "rants" as you call them! __I love to hear from you!_

_And finally I want to thank my dear friend **FunkyFlamingo**(Emma) for all her help!! If any one is into Sweeney Todd. Check out her story "Public Affairs" it's a definate MUST READ!!_

_Until next time!_

_Hugs from Holland,_

_Angela_

_17-04-2008_


	41. Veritas, Unitas, Caritas

**A/N I'm sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. Life has once again proven me that nothing can be planned, that nothing can be taken for granted and that each and every moment counts.**

**On April 28th my husband and I had to make the hardest decision a dog-lover ever has to make. Muppet, our beloved furry daughter, French Bulldog had to be put to sleep. In the past few weeks she has gotten paralized. It started with her right front paw and then the situation rapidly progressed for the worse. There was nothing more that could be done for her. It is so unfair. She was only 3 ½ years old. We loved her like a child. It was in her best interest, but it was such a hard decision to make. Our whole lives revolved around that little hairy girl and now we find ourselves lost. The house seems so empty and hollow now that she isn't here anymore. We miss her snores, her snorts, her little farts, her poor attempts to bark like a normal dog (which mostly resembled little mumbles instead of actual barks) they way she loved to cuddle and how she was always there for us.**

**Our house is just a house now that she's gone. Not a home anymore. I'm sure only other pet owners or dog-lovers understand the gravity of the loss of a beloved pet and I can't seem to get back into how life was before we adopted her. I've started writing again, to have something to do to keep me occupied and stop my mind from worrying and my heart from grieving. I hope you all like this chapter and if any pet-owners who have experienced the loss of their pet have tips on how to handle this pain, please let me know.**

**I dedicate this chapter to**

_Muppet _

_26-09-2004 – 28-04-2008_

_Rust zacht lief prinsesje_.

* * *

**Chapter 41**

**Veritas, Unitas, Caritas**

_Truth, Unity, Love_

If you were me  
And I was you  
If you had to play my part out  
What would you do  
Two crazy stories  
Two different views  
If you were me  
And I was you

"If You Were Me"-Elton John (from "Duets")

After a while the barkeep had finally admitted to Jack that Devon was in fact here. The man behind the counter – also the owner of the tavern as Jack had found out – had informed him of the fact that Devon had installed herself in her "old room". Part of Jack was just plain disgusted by the fact that it seemed she had been whoring herself to all man folk that entered this tavern. It must have shown on his face somehow, because the barkeep soon told him that Devon didn't receive those kind of customers in her room and never had in the past. Apart from tattooing she had never done anything else in her room, besides living in it.

"So yer tellin' me she never worked for you while she was here?" Jack asked feeling a little bit relieved.

The bartender – who was busy rubbing the counter with a tattered rag - nodded. "Unfortunately not in _that_ way. She could've made a lot of money and so could I, but all she ever did was sing here. There were men that came here solely fer her, on the nights that she sang, but she didn't want to be anyone's whore." He chuckled a bit then, "I always thought that a bit odd – funny even - because she never had problems lettin' men get between her legs. I never understood why she didn't let herself get paid for what she loved doing in her pastime anyhow."

For the second time that day, Jack found himself reaching across the counter, his anger pulsating in his veins. "Never, I mean _never_, speak of Duville that way again, will ye mate! She's a lot o' things but she's no whore!"

Jack released the man then, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Victor adjusted his collar, relieved that the pirate had let go of him. He was very defensive of Devon now wasn't he? He figured Devon must mean a lot to the pirate Captain for him to be getting so worked up over her. _"What if they actually are a couple? He's probably come back to fetch her then…"_He thought as he looked at the pirate again.

The barkeeper smiled at Jack, deciding to test the waters. "Then why did ye question her occupation in the first place, hmmm? She might not be a whore, but she's no angel either. I'm certain a man like yerself would be aware o' that Capt'n."

A buxom redhead ordered two pints of ale and a mug of rum on the counter and listened in on the conversation. "Who ain't an angel boss?"

Both men looked at the redhead as the barkeep said**, "Duville."**

"**Ye mean **_**Duville**_?" The redhead repeated, spitting her name out as if name itself tasted very foul. "I've heard she's back. Mary told me. A trollop that's what that woman is. I can't believe ye let her stay 'ere in the first place when ye know she'll only steal our customers! Ye know she's done it in the past!" She whined.

The redhead caught a venomous glare from the pirate sitting next to her. "Better watch that mouth o' yers, missy. I'll not tolerate anyone disrespecting her."

"What's she to ye anyways Captain? Surely yer not telling me something like _that _has caught yer fancy. I thought ye'd have better taste than that, Captain." The whore purred as she leaned closer to Jack, obviously trying to flaunt her merchandise. Jack however, did not take the bait. What he actually did, was lean closer to the hussy, so that his nose almost touched hers, his dark eyes looking straight and forebodingly into her green ones.

"Listen ta me, missy. I've been known ta have excellent – nigh unimpeachable – taste, thanks very much. _Especially _in my women. And I suggest ye pay close attention to Miss. Duville next time ye see her, because there be no woman – now listen carefully to what I'm about to say – no woman whatsoever who can hold a candle to her. Not in beauty, not in passion, not in strength, not in handling a firearm. That last part ye might take into serious consideration, because if she were to – somehow – find out about you badmouthing her person she will no doubt use said firearm to … well I don't know, mayhaps enhance your lovely features by adding a hole or two in your positively glowing face, savvy? And if she doesn't, then I just might feel very much inclined to do so myself. Understood?"

The redhead looked at him dumbfounded and then chose to leave him be. Huffing as she stomped away with her drinks.

* * *

When Devon returned from her trip into town she found herself rather pleased with the items she had acquired. She had bought a jar of black pigment and had 'found' some needles and another jar of dye when the shopkeeper hadn't been looking. Sometimes it was just too damned easy to do the wrong thing. It just gave a whole new dimension to shopping when one didn't have to reach into their pockets to pay for the items of their desire. Besides - she might need all the money she could get if things didn't go smoothly.

When she nearly reached the top of the staircase that led to her room she noticed that her door stood open. She bolted up the final two steps of the stairs as fast as she could and when she reached her room, the most unexpected scene caught her eye.

In her room, on her very bed, sat none other than Captain Jack Sparrow. He petted her dog – _who __was located on his lap for Chrissakes_ – as he looked up to her. She was once again caught by his looks. He was looking as handsome as ever and the look in his eyes made her swallow hard. Though there was something else in his eyes, just a hint of redness that most likely resembled her own eyes. She had been crying a lot, before she went to clear her head and run for errands, had he been crying too?

'Jack. I- um…" She managed to cough out as she placed the purchased and stolen items on the narrow table. Her hands trembled and she almost dropped her array of needles on the floor while she glanced over her shoulder to look at him. She couldn't believe it. He was actually here…

Jack gently pushed Bullet off his lap and petted him behind his pointy bat like ears, before he slowly rose to his full height.

Devon didn't move. She was frozen in place, nailed to her bedroom floor, as a whirlwind of emotions raged through her. All she did was study him, unsure what to make of this situation. She wondered what he was doing here. How had he found her in the first place?

Jack – on the other hand- was studying her, unsure of what to do or say. Then he decided this passiveness didn't do either of them any good and he moved towards her.

Before Devon knew what hit her and before Jack was fully aware what he was doing himself, he had her pinned against the door of her room and had covered her lips with his. She hesitated for a moment unsure of what to make of this sudden flash of affection, but then Jack found that her lips parted ever so slightly to grant him entrance. Jack Sparrow didn't waste time ignoring her subtle invitation; he deepened the kiss as soon as he felt he relax in his embrace. The kiss contained as much pent up passion as it did gentleness. That one kiss proved their connection. No words were needed at this point; just this intimate gesture - their lips and tongues welcoming back the other in slow tantalizing motions - was enough. Everything would be okay.

He had planned to apologize and talk to her, yes - but the sensation of having her so close to him again and the fact that he had gotten her permission to touch her made all the words seem meaningless. It had been so long. Too long in fact.

Devon found her legs turn to putty and she was glad she was pinned between the door and him; else her legs would have given away completely. The warmth that radiated from his body was overwhelming, and she could taste rum on his lips. After a few moments Jack broke away softly as he cupped her face in his calloused hands. "Don't you _ever_ leave me 'gain." His voice was low and somehow sounded different to her, but she couldn't quite place in what way.

She tried to speak, but her voice caught. She cleared her throat to dislocate the lump that had formed inside of it. "You were the one that wanted – nay _demanded_ - me to leave, if I remember correctly. I 'ave done just that."

"Since when did you start to listen to what I say, tart? Ye're not the kind that follows orders willingly." He drawled as he pulled her closer to him again, relishing the feel of her. He was so glad that she didn't fight him or kick him out. When he pulled her along towards the bed, Devon noticed something tied to his wrist. The tattered and frayed shred of French lace that had been tied around his hand and wrist was no longer there and the tress of her hair had taken its place.

"I take it you found the box then?" she whispered as he took her hand in his, their fingers entwined.

He couldn't look her in the eye as he answered her. "Yes, I did."

Jack didn't explain it any further and she didn't press the matter. In fact, neither of them spoke for a few minutes they just sat there quietly, holding hands like love struck teenagers. Everything was serene –save for Bullet's loud snoring- for a while, before she looked up to him and said "I see you found my gift aswell."

He nodded, gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. It was silly talking about trivial things under these circumstances, they were both very much aware of that, but the fact that they were both here and hadn't hurt each other physically was a good thing, Devon supposed.

"Devon I-" Jack started, his voice still a bit gruff. "I want ye to know that I never meant to hurt you; I just wanted you to think about what you've done by not tellin' me sooner. You really hurt me by keepin' it from me for so long. I mean you're with child. You should have told me."

And that was it; as soon as the words had left his mouth he knew that he would somehow regret them. "Oh, no", he thought. "_Not good!!"_

"I didn't get pregnant on my own Sparrow!" She spat as she got up from the bed. The sudden, abrupt movement caused Bullet to stir in the bed sheets. "You were involved same as me. I didn't plan this to happen. Lord knows I'm unfit to mother a child. Hell, I was so damn intent to get rid of it once I found out, that I even tried to make Cooper fetch me Pennyroyal. Not that he was of any help in that department by the way…" she snorted.

"I thought I was doing you a favour by not telling you. I just found out myself, do you know what that's like, Jack? When someone tells you have a child within you?! A child ye never wanted or thought you could have? I was devastated - panicked - I couldn't even think straight! Then again, if you knew, why didn't you ask me in the first place?"

He stood up himself, placing a finger on her lips in order to shush her. His heart broke as he noticed the tears that were welling up in her eyes. "Devon, I don't know what ye must 'ave gone through all by yerself, but ye don't have ta do this alone anymore, tart. I'm here aren't I?"

She blinked her eyes a couple of times wondering if he was actually saying what Devon thought he was saying.

'W-what do ye mean, Jack?"

He leaned forward, sneaking an arm around her back and placing his lips on hers. He kissed her with such tenderness and care, that it almost seemed out of character. He had never ever kissed her this way before - or at least she couldn't remember if he ever had. That night on the _Pearl _when he had told her she was 'his', his kisses had been different, gentler than the ones they usually shared, but this time, it was almost as if she could taste his love for her. Devon couldn't believe this was happening, but she couldn't help but follow Jack's lead. It felt so good to be with him again.

When Jack finally broke the kiss he made her look at him. "What I mean Devon is that we're in this together. I'm not goin' anywhere if ye're not either. Except o'course fer the occasional treasure hunts. Or - if I'd be called away on urgent business that require me ta sail my magnificent huge-ish vessel across the oceanic depths so I that can steal pretty thingies for me bonny lass; meaning you by the way. Shiny objects – or not shiny - since ye obviously do not share my affection for things that glimmer… You can steal nice pretty shiny thingies for me though while you're away, I'd very much like that. I still have a couple of naked fingers." He empathized the nakedness of said digits by wiggling them in front of her face. "See?"

"But I'm scared." She confessed whispering softly, ignoring the last part of his little monologue. "I've never been more afraid in my life."

He pulled her closer to him "I know luv. So am I. But we'll get through this together somehow. I mean our parents didn't do too a bad job raising us, now did they?"

"My father was hardly ever around, Jack. It was me and my mother with him occasionally visiting. My mother was left heartbroken and determined to keep me away from the sea. Her worries that I would leave her also one day drove me insane when I was younger. I don't want to live the life she led, Jack. I've worked too hard to escape such a life. How can I raise a child and still live the life I want to lead? I don't know how I'm going to pull that off…"

"We'll think of a way, darlin', when the time comes. As I said, we're in this together." He said, as he gently put his hand on her protruding stomach. Suddenly, for a moment, he felt very proud. He had managed to get her in this state; he had conceived a child with the woman he loved. It proved him to be virile still, masculine even. For a tiny moment he thought back on where exactly it had happened. Had it been when they had been together on the _Liberty_? Or even before that? The night on the helm of the _Pearl _perhaps_? _A proud, content grin curled his lips as he recalled every single time Devon and he had fornicated so delightfully.

'So yer not angry with me?" She asked as she looked at him. His hands lifted her blouse and touched her bare skin. He was looking distant, a grin tugging at the corners of his well shaped mouth.

"Not anymore," he whispered as he placed delicate feather light kisses on the base of her neck, right underneath her scar. "Are you still angry with me?"

She shook her head slightly. "Jack, I -" she moaned as gooseflesh formed on her arms due to Jacks' gentle touches.

"I know, Vonnie. I love ye too." He grunted before he kissed her again. They had been so foolish fighting over this. It was a normal – every day - occurrence. People all across the world had babies, right? Yet it did frighten him somewhat also - other people weren't pirates. Well her father had been a pirate and so had his - and Devon and he had turned out fine, right? He was sure that fathering Devon's child – their child – would be an adventure of its own. No, he hadn't planned this and yes, if he could have prevented it he would have. He just had never thought of taking precautions. Given her reputation he had assumed she would have done so. Then again when she had been certain she would never be able to have children what use would taking precautions do? It had happened somehow and for some reason it seemed right now that they were back together.

When he felt her hands on his bare chest, he shoved all worries and thoughts to the back of his mind for the time being. It just felt so damned good to feel her near him again.

"Devon?" He asked as his hands roamed upwards.

'Hmmm," she moaned as she felt his hands touch her breasts.

'Now, tell me, darlin'…when did _these_ get bigger? I haven't noticed this before but… they've certainly … _blossomed_. Not that I'm complaining mind you." He whispered hoarsely as he cupped her breasts with both greedy hands.

Devon grinned, the gem in her tooth sparkled as she bared her teeth forgetting all their worries for the moment. "I don't know Jack. I was trying too hard to ignore all the signs my body was giving me."

He beamed at her. "I suppose I've been tryin' me damnest to ignore your changes also, luv. We've wasted so much time fighting."

She smiled back at him. "I guess we've gotten too good at fighting …"

He nimbly unbuttoned her blouse as he kissed the hollow of her neck again, flicking his tongue across her skin, pleased with the moan she let out. "I do believe we're far better in making up, don't ye agree?" He said hoarsely, his body obviously reacting to hers and their proximity.

"How did ye find me anyway?" She asked suddenly. "I've asked no one to inform you."

All Jack managed to say was, "compass." before his lips claimed hers again. He simply couldn't get enough of her. His tongue played languidly with hers, as it re-charted familiar territory.

When his words sank in, she pushed him away slightly, freeing her mouth from his whiskered lips. "What do ye mean 'compass'?"

He grunted obviously displeased that she broke the moment. "It points to what I want most. Desire most if ye will. Therefore, it led me to you."

A small mischievous grin tugged at her lips. "Are you telling me you want – nay _desire_ – me, Captain Sparrow?"

He looked up to her, his dark eyes darkening even further. "Miss. Duville let me put it this way: If ye don't undress me any time soon I'm sure I'll rip the front of my trousers in a few moments."

His voice was thick from arousal and when Devon looked down she could see the proof of his desire straining against the fabric of his breeches. "That much eh?" She quipped, raising an eyebrow.

In a flash, he had pushed her back onto the mattress and his long skilled fingers worked to remove her belt.

When they both heard a loud content snore coming form beside them, their eyes met. "I'm not sure I want an audience." Jack said looking pointedly at her dog that lay on his back, all four paws raised heavenward.

She laughed. "Captain Jack Sparrow, scourge of the seven seas, can't do well when a dog is present? Don't be silly."

The look on his face was precious, and it made her laugh even harder. When Devon proceeded to remove Jack's belts and sash and let her hand slide across the straining fabric of his trousers, he didn't care who or what was watching anymore. He longed for her, not only with his heart, but the throbbing dull ache between his legs made him even more aware of his current desire. Devon was all he ever wanted in a woman and more and he vowed himself that he would never let her go again.

"The dog doesn't mind though, does he? I mean, he won't bite me will he?" Jack asked looking genuinely afraid for a moment, before he deftly discarded her blouse to the floor immediately after losing his own shirt.

A lecherous smile curved her lips upwards. "Trust me Captain, this dog has witnessed more naughty escapades than the artist who drew the pictures in the book of Kamasutra."

By the look in her eyes, he knew she was teasing him, but he couldn't help the fact that it somewhat hurt. "Wench!" He growled low in his throat as he pulled off her boots.

"Kamasutra ye say?" He drawled quirking an eyebrow. "Oh, you impish, immoral, indecorous woman, yer such a bad influence on a man of my standin'."

She quickly undid the fastenings on his trousers and tossed them to the floor. "Ye do realize the irony of that don't ye, Jack? Pot 'n kettle and all that."

He beamed a golden smile at her before he assaulted her nipples with his lips and teeth. The sensation alone drove Devon wild with anticipation. He breathed, "As much as I do hope you realize that I am – in fact - standing."

"All too well, skipper." She grinned pulling him to her as he confirmed his 'standing' state to her by pushing his manhood on her inner thigh. "Don't waste any more precious time, dear Captain."

That was all he needed to hear from her - and in a flash he had stripped her from all remaining clothes and was nestled between her thighs again.

His hands roamed her stomach in slow languid motions and once again he noticed how her stomach had grown. Strange, that now that he finally knew of her pregnancy, he fully noticed how much her body had already changed - especially now, as he hadn't seen her without her clothes on for a while. He was unsure to move for a second, what if he hurt it? Or if he hurt her?

"What's keeping ye, Captain? I do hope ye never hesitate this long before boarding a vessel." She snarled as she bucked her hips to him. His eyes however, were glued to her stomach.

"This…" He whispered hoarsely. "That we're doing this, this is all right, isn't it? I mean…"

Her eyes found his and she made him look up to her by lifting his face upward a little. "Jack, we've been doing this before – hence the whole pregnancy thing – as well as already during my pregnancy when we didn't know." She told him. "It's no different now that we're aware of it I suppose. Don't just linger there Jack...please."

He slid inside her then after hearing her plea, astounded that she had probably missed him just as much as he had missed her judging by the fact that he had been able to enter her so smoothly.

"Just making sure. We might need that Kamasutra though, once ye get bigger." He moaned as he picked up his pace.

Devon tossed her hair back and followed his rhythm. "We don't need Kamasutra, Jack, all that we need is us."

"God I've missed ye," he moaned as he thrust deeper inside of her. Then suddenly he drew back. "I'm not hurting you am I?"

He felt her nails digging in his backside as she pulled him back inside of her. "Sparrow, I'm no china doll. Ye won't break me."

"Good." He murmured hoarsely as she bucked her hips to urge him on. "'Cause I don't think I'll be able to hold back any longer... I want you so much."

His hand slid down between her legs and he rubbed her gently at first, but when he saw the look of ecstasy on her face, he picked up his pace and rubbed her faster, harder, his fingers slick from her desire. When he saw her biting her lip and when her blue eyes started glazing over, he knew he didn't need to use his hand anymore.

It was good. It had been very good. Nothing fancy though, just an old-fashioned quickie that was a little prolonged because of the actual conversation that had taken place during their reunion. Therefore, somehow it felt more meaningful to both pirates than their former sexual exploits. It was a natural way for the two of them to get back together. She was still panting from the delicious orgasm Jack had given her and when he rolled off of her to lie next to her she noticed he himself was breathing heavily also.

They lay perfectly still for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of their reunion, their fingers entwined, staring in each others eyes. The both of them were afraid to speak out of fear it would ruin the moment.

"Devon?" Jack whispered after a little while.

"Hmmm…"

"The barkeep mentioned ye wanted ta start tattooing from here, 's that right?"

She propped herself on one elbow as she looked at him. "Yes, that was my plan. Why?"

"I wondered if ye would take a foolish, stubborn, greedy pirate Captain into consideration for being your first customer."

She quirked an eyebrow, not believing what he was saying.

"From what I've heard in the Orient the skills of the Dragon Lady are immaculate. Almost or even just as good as her tutors… That's not a load of hogwash - or is it?"

Devon looked at him again, confusion written all across her face. "Ye're serious?"

"If ye are as talented an artist with ink and needles as you are with ink and paper, then yes, I'm serious." He said, looking at the narrow table in the corner of the room.

She sat upright in the bed, looking at him again. "So ye actually honestly want me ta ink you?"

Jack took her rugged hands in his own, caressing her palms tenderly. "Yes. That's exactly what I want. I want you to be the one ta place my next design on my skin. Mind ye, I've given this one a lot of thought."

* * *

As she pricked his skin with the sanitized needles that varied in size, to then proceed to insert the dye into the fresh wounds, she still couldn't believe she was actually doing this. After Jacks' outburst on the Pearl she thought everything between them would be in shambles. But now she was actually placing her name on his chest. Not on his heart, because there was a nicely done portrait of the Black Pearl on the left side of his chest covering his most vital organ. But he had asked her to write her name in ink on his chest. He didn't move or budge while she worked - and that was more than could be said about a lot of her previous clients. He just sat there, watching her face as she continued her work. She had first written her name with a piece of charcoal so she wouldn't make mistakes. Devon had never been so nervous about doing her work before. He hadn't told her why he wanted her name, just that that be the design of his choice. He hadn't spoken to her since either. Her mind was reeling all the while and when she wiped the excess ink away with a gin drenched rag, her eyes met his.

"What's on yer mind, tart?"

She wiped her brow with the sleeve of her blouse that she had thrown on, to remove the veil of sweat that had covered it. "Nothing."

"I want your name across me chest and yer thinking nothing?"

"Shush, Jack. I don't want to screw this up." She snapped, as she picked a finer needle to work with. The pricks she gave were smaller now and closer together.

"Quite the perfectionist, eh? Wouldn't have it any other way." He ground out winching somewhat, when he felt the needles digging in further.

"Drench the rag." She commanded as she pointed to the bottle of gin next to the stack of rags besides him with her free hand.

He smiled, despite the pain her needles caused. "And bossy too…" But he did as he was told and took a new piece of cloth and drenched it in the gin. He couldn't help but take a quick sip to dull the pain. She didn't notice, however, because she was focusing hard on the lines she was currently working on.

"Hand it over." She ordered again, without looking up. When he saw her upheld hand, he asked, "the gin or the rag, tart?"

"The bloody rag of course," she groaned and was pleased to feel that he had handed her the cloth.

As she dabbed the dye in and wiped the excess away she stepped back a bit, looking at the work from her hands.

There was an odd sensation in her stomach. Normally she was proud and pleased when a design had come to life on the living canvass, but this time, she was confused. This had been the first time she had ever done a tattoo this personal. Not to mention on someone this close to her. It was odd. And very unsettling.

"Ready?" Jack asked when he glanced down on his throbbing chest.

"If this is what ye wanted, then yes, I suppose I'm done. There's a mirror over there, ye can have a look if ye want." She said as she soaked the rags she used in her water basin. She would need boiling water to disinfect them again, but that wasn't her worry at the moment.

He walked up to the mirror and took a look. Funny how things had turned out. If this didn't prove he was serious he didn't know what on earth would.

"Magnificent," he said, admiring the same flowing lines that had graced the paper he had read earlier. And although the skin on his chest was red and swollen, he had never seen such flawless lettering before. Sure, the 'Jack' on his forearm was nicely done, but it was nothing compared to the image that he saw in the mirror. Devon's lettering was fine, elegant and perfect. Maybe it was this perfect, because it was a woman's writing. Or perhaps just because it was her handwriting, her art, her skill that made this design so much better than his others.

Devon took her art as seriously as she took her work as a gunner. He admired her stamina and persistence, not to mention her craftsmanship. Or would that be craftswoman ship? Devon wasn't an average woman and the more he discovered about her the more he found himself loving her. If there was ever a true match for him, she was it. And together they would be able to move mountains, he was fairly sure of that. If their child inherited only a little of her vigour, they were in for a rough ride not to mention if any of his traits were to pass onto the little one. For the first time, he found himself actually looking forward to seeing how a child of theirs would turn out. But before he could dwell on that thought, he was shaken from his reverie by her harsh voice.

"Glad it meets yer approval, Jack. Now sit yerself down, I have to bind it." She ordered again. She didn't want to get emotional on him, although her mind and heart were in complete disarray.

"Ye always use this tone with customers, luv? If they don't piss their pants because of the pain, I'm sure that tone of voice makes 'em loose it." He said as he walked back to the chair and sat himself down.

She took out a fresh piece of cloth and drenched it in the alcohol again, pressing it firmly to his skin. He winched a bit as the alcohol filled every tiny puncture. Then she wrapped his chest firmly, taking her time, trying not to think too much about what she'd just done. Everything that she did as she wrapped his chest was just routine. It was like she was a machine that was operated by someone other than herself.

"There, all wrapped up." She said trying to sound casual, although she could feel her blood pulsate in her ears.

"Once this is healed…" Jack drawled. "I want you to put a heart above it."

He tried to hold her gaze, but she looked away. "Devon, are you listening to me, luv?"

She looked up, looking at him from beneath her long thick eyelashes. "Hmmmm, I am."

"Then do me the honour, luv, come back with me. Stay with Isaac on the _Hazard_ and continue on this quest with us. I won't have ye staying here, out of my sight."

She shook her head, his words not really sinking in. "I can't Jack. Drake was very persistent. He won't have me aboard in this state."

He moved closer to her, kissing her stern as he made her look into his eyes "Devon, your Captain is a very smart man. The fact that he made ye leave was just a scheme to get us back together. He even got me so jealous that I admitted my feelings to him so that I went after you. I'm sure he wants nothing more than the apple of his eye returning to him."

She blinked a few times not understanding, and Jack realised she hadn't registered much of what he had just told her. Devon was finally gathering the courage to verbalize her thoughts "Jack? Why did I just tattoo my name on yer chest?"

His eyes grew positively darker when he returned her gaze. "Because, me dear, this way, you'll always be close to me, even if we're not together."

She couldn't help herself then, be it hormones or just plain happiness, but she felt her tears coming and she couldn't stop them.

"Don't cry ye silly woman, just say ye'll be me anchorage – always." He said softly, as he gently wiped her tears away.

Devon shot forward then, pinning him to the wall behind him and kissed him, trying to add more passion and dedication in her kiss than she had ever done before. He knew then that she agreed. Everything would work out now that they'd gotten back together.

TBC

* * *

_P.S. The movie quotes in the previous chapter were from "Heartbreakers" the scene where the daughter Paige meets Jack the bartender for the first time. (In the story it's where Devon sits at the counter and doesn't notice the guy talking to her is Victor)._

_I'd like to thank **KirinFang** - **shadow3031** - **SasoriKun9** - and **laurakyna** for adding me or my story to their favourites! Thank you guys so much! It really means a lot to me! If I forgot anyone I'm sorry, but you know you're out there!_

_To Smithy: Your reviews are always very interesting and educational I must say. Our Easter traditions are pretty much the same as yours, except we don't eat marshmallows. We do paint eggs, eat a lot of eggs and have an egg tree (a branch from a blossom tree) in our homes (with decorated little eggs in it). And the dolling up for Easter Sunday service takes place over here also. Easter is also a time spent with family and loved ones. I like the names of your cats very much by the way. Thanks for reviewing!_

_And everyone who has taken the time to review: You guys rock!!_

_Until next time,_

_Angie_


	42. Bliss

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything that belongs to the mouse, everything else does!_

_Happiness is not having what you want, but wanting what you have.  
-Rabbi H. Schachtel , The Real Enjoyment of Living-_

**Chapter 42**

**- Bliss -**

_It's always have and never hold  
You've begun to feel like home  
What's mine is yours to leave or take  
What's mine is yours to make your own_

_The Fray – Look after you_

A slightly groggy Jack Sparrow found himself tangled up in limbs and bed sheets as frizzy curls tickled his nose. A long, tan, muscular leg was casually draped over his, a knee just beneath his crotch. An arm was flung cross his middle and he couldn't deny feeling positively happy when he looked next to him. Devon was still asleep and the thought that he was currently sharing a bed with _his_ woman really made him feel happy. Yes, he truly was genuinely happy. He supposed they had fallen asleep together - he didn't know how long for though. He still saw light coming through her small window. As he gently moved to get up, he winced in pain. Ah yes, the tattoo, he thought. Smiling, he carefully leaned back to kiss the top of Devon's unruly mane. She stirred a little, slowly fluttering her eyes open.

"'Ello beautiful," he whispered as she looked up to him. She tried to focus her eyes on him, but he somehow seemed surreal. True, she was still a bit sleepy, but she did have her eyes open didn't she? Perhaps it was a dream, because she just couldn't believe _this_ was happening. But he was here – still here – he felt real, and his voice sounded real enough. If this was a dream she wished never to awaken. If this was her mind playing tricks on her, she didn't want to uncover the mystery. When she felt his rough hand touching hers, she knew it had to be real. A flash of pure bliss washed over her and she looked at him. Those beautiful mysterious dark brown eyes of his locked steadily on her own.

"'Ello yerself," came her throaty reply as she stretched herself.

She kissed his cheek, his whiskers tickled her skin – another sign that he was very real – and she entwined her fingers with his. For a few moments, they just cherished this togetherness. Neither of them spoke, they were just holding each others hand and gazing in each others eyes like love struck teenagers. This starry-eyed sentiment was so unlike the two pirates that it made Devon smile at the sheer silliness of it. It would have been a very romantic moment too – if it hadn't been for the little black and white French Bulldog that was nestled between their legs atop the bed sheets, taking a loud breath and passing gas almost simultaneously. Jack wrinkled his nose in disgust, Devon on the other hand was used to her dogs quirks and just looked down lovingly. "Hello little Bullet," she cooed as she leaned down to pet his square shaped head.

"That dog o' yers smells fouler than the fish market at the docks." Jack grunted, fanning the foul smell away from him using part of the sheets that wasn't wrapped around him and Devon.

Devon smiled a broad smile and the diamond embedded in the ivory of her teeth sparkled at him. He quickly forgot the odour surrounding them and found himself smiling back at her. Did dear William feel this way when he woke up next to his Elisabeth, he wondered? When he pondered this another thought popped into his head; he – the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow, roamer of the seven seas and many a skirt - had managed to impregnate the infamous Devon Duville even before William Turner had knocked up his dear wife Lizzie! Perhaps the boy really was a eunuch after all… Ah, fornication was indeed a wonderful thing. Even if it came with side affects, he thought a little wryly as his hands touched Devon's protruding stomach. Now there was even more of her to hold on to, to touch, to nibble on… Funny that was, Devon wasn't a skinny lass to begin with. Strong wide shoulders, brawny arms, almost manly if it hadn't been for her long elegant, yet callused fingers and not to forget her lovely chest and backside. She had wide hips – child bearing hips - as Joshamee Gibbs would certainly say if asked. Yet he had been instantly attracted to her when he had first laid eyes on her. But her sharp tongue and annoying little antics had initially instantly triggered every alarm bell in his body. And now, they were an inseparable pair. He would never let her go again. The woman that was curled up beside him was the one meant for him, he was certain of that. They had fought each other on many occasions, sometimes even drawing blood - particularly in the beginning - but they always got back together in the end. They always made amends and this proved to him that they were meant to last. Jack Sparrow hadn't found himself bored for a second in this relationship. It was as wild and rocky as the sea he loved so dearly and he knew that this was the exact reason the seemingly unattainable and untameable piratess was still in his life. Would he be faithful? He supposed he would, if she would also. If she - however - wanted to be free to explore, then he would do so as well. But somehow he figured Devon wouldn't be hard to stay devoted to, she had so many different sides to her and even more personalities…

A little tug at his beaded beard made him snap out of his daze. He looked down on her again, the sheets had fallen slightly away from her form and Jack's eyes were glued to her now semi-exposed breasts.

"Ye're so beautiful." He breathed.

"Glad ye finally noticed, ye were miles away weren't you?" She smirked, leaning back on the pillows to make herself comfortable again. "Me eyes are up 'ere, Capt'n," she teased, eyes twinkling, as she lifted his face up by his chin.

"I was just thinkin' about us. How we first met and what I thought of ye back then..." He said, kissing the hand that cupped his chin.

"Funny how things turned out huh?" She said, "with us hating each other for so long."

He smiled "I didn't hate you luv, I just hated how ye made me feel…"

"Oh." She retorted a hint of mock disappointment showing through her voice, "I really did hate you at first."

"You did not!" He said incredulously, pushing himself against the headboard of her small bed.

"I did too. That almost feminine sway in yer walk, those infuriating flailing 'ands o' yers -thought ye were constantly drunk when I didn't really know ye. Thought ye were an egocentric prick I did. A mighty handsome one, yes, but annoying none the less."

He clutched his chest, hurt written across his features. "You wound me, luv!"

"Funny how the truth never wants to be heard." She stated looking him straight in the eyes.

"Well ye're no picnic either, darling." He snapped crossing his arms in front of his bare chest.

"You like picnics then?"

"Hell no!"

She beamed at him, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Then that's why we're so great togeter! If I were obedient, demure and a real proper lady, you'd be bored to death. As would I."

His lips were on hers as soon as she'd finished her sentence. She was so right! When he felt her delicious tongue sliding teasingly along his, Jack Sparrow couldn't help but deepen the kiss. He wanted her so much. When she gently ground her knee into his crotch, he grabbed hold of her and hoisted her on top of him. Devon adjusted herself and soon he filled her again. As she rode him he had a full view of her full breasts and her swollen belly and he was utterly mesmerized by the sight; Devon looked the way she did because of _him_. Their delightful fornication had turned her into this curvy Amazon who was finally taking the lead in their lovemaking again. It had been ages since she had initiated a little romp - probably because of her hormones - but Jack loved the fact that she had once again taken control.

Devon enjoyed it even more than Jack if that was even possible. Her stomach wasn't in the way in this position and the admiring salacious glint in his dark brown eyes when he looked at her finally made her feel desirable again. It was so good to see she still had this affect on him, even when she felt a bit like a cow these days. She gradually picked up their pace as she leant back, narrowing herself for him and Jack grabbed hold of her hips. The way his digits pressed into her skin and the way he looked at her made her realise he was just as desperate for release as she was. It didn't take long for them both to climax. Jack came first, his feet kicking uncontrollably as he cried out her name. He couldn't hold back seeing Devon's full form riding him. Her breasts moved in a delightful almost hypnotising rhythm in sync with their every move and he honestly didn't know where to look. Devon came moments later, her whole body quivering from the warm waves swirling inside of her.

Panting, Devon rolled off of him trying to catch her breath. Jack pushed a few sweat drenched strands of her hair out of her face and gently kissed her damp brow. His breath was hot on her skin and still slightly laboured as he whispered something that vaguely sounded like "I love you," into her ear.

"I love you too." Came her hoarse reply. Even if he hadn't said the words, to her it didn't matter. Devon really did love the man who lay next to her.

They lay there for a couple of moments, both pirates hazy and basking in the afterglow of their previous activities.

"So what now, Devon?" Jack asked after a while, twirling a strand of her damp hair between his bejewelled fingers. "Are ye going to come back with me?"

She propped herself on one hand studying him. "I don't know Jack, maybe it would be better if I stayed 'ere…"

"You don't mean that - you'd go insane bein' stuck on land and you know it. Besides, Drake needs you. And I need you near to me. There's a treasure to hunt and part of its clue is burned on your skin." He said gently touching the strange marking on her hip.

"I still don't know what that means…." She spoke absentmindedly looking at the strange white scar.

"It means you're needed to find it Devon, somehow you're linked to this treasure."

She snorted. "How on earth could I be connected to a treasure o' a King who divided 'is own bleedin' kingdom?"

"I don't know, but we'll never know if ye stay here inking other men's chests." He retorted. There was a tiny hint of possessiveness to his voice that triggered Devon's wicked sense of humour.

"Fer your information I do ink other body parts also." She said matter-of-factly, fighting the upcoming smile that was tugging at her lips.

"What kind of body parts?!"

She smirked at his rash query. "Let's just say very _very_ interestin' ones!'"

"Wench!" Jack laughed as he pulled her near to him for a kiss.

"Easy there, sailor!" She laughed. "Ye don't want the ink ta ruin do ye?"

He put on the most adorable little pout and it made Devon smile even more. "Apologies," he muttered, before his lips claimed hers again.

* * *

"So ye really want me ta come back with ye?" She asked after a while.

"Yes, and I know Drake and the rest of your crew will be thrilled to have you back with them as well."

"I don't know." She said, looking around the small room. "If I get any bigger I will more then likely be a burden instead of an asset."

"Then take things slow. Help chart the course, take inventory; I don't know … help with little things here and there. We all want ye back Devon. I'm sure even Gibbs would be pleased to have ye back with Drake. He's grown awfully fond of ye lately. The hell he's given me after our last fight… He actually took your side!" Jack said with a smile tugging at his lips. The old salt had been right all along. He belonged with Devon and he'd been a fool to let his pride come between them.

"He's a smart man, Jack. I've teased him a lot, but I actually do like the man. He's a father figure in a way, same as Hoggins."

"Hoggins is the older fellow right? The one that row-"

"The one that rowed me ashore, yes." She interrupted.

"I want ye to come back, Vonnie. I can keep an eye on ye when ye're with Drake. I'd never forgive meself if somethin' were ta happen to ye here. And before ye give me Hell about ye bein' able ta defend yerself and whatnot…" he said raising a hand to silence her before she could interrupt him, "I know ye're a pirate, I know ye can fight, but ye're carryin' my child. I won't have me gel goin' through the rest o' her pregnancy alone and that's the end o' it."

She bit her lip. He was serious. He actually wanted her to come back with him, because he was worried about her.

"Jack I..." she started.

"Say yes and go pack, luv. The ships won't wait for us forever."

"Ships? As in two ships? Drake hasn't sailed off?" she asked with surprise tingeing her voice.

Jack didn't answer, he merely shook his head and picked up her knapsack and started to collect her things.

"Ye sure he hasn't?"

"Positive. He made me confess my love for you, hence the reason I went after you. My guess is that he's still there, smugly awaiting our return."

Devon grinned "Don't you just hate it when he's right?"

"Not this time." He replied smiling, gesturing towards the array of needles and ink jars. "Where do these go?"

Devon grabbed a piece of clean cloth and placed the needles atop it. She carefully folded the cloth into a neat bundle and searched for something to wrap it with. She decided to take out one of her braids, so she could use the leather strap to hold the bundle together.

The jars she just rolled into several towels. "Ye're not leaving those behind?"

"Hell no. Paid good money fer 'em." She said as she rolled the final ink jar into the towel.

"Devon Duville actually paid for these items?" He asked, mockingly raising an eyebrow.

"Well I would 'ave paid for 'em, but some o' them just found their way into me 'ands." She smiled sheepishly. "Odd isn't it, when that happens?"

"Very odd indeed. But you know, the greedy 'ands o' a pirate, can have a mind o' their own at times."

"I know." She stated simply, "those poor hands o' mine just couldn't resist the temptation," as she placed all the items into her bag.

"I deeply empathize with your hands, Miss. Duville. I – unlike any other - know how it feels to be tempted so dearly." Jack spoke charmingly, wrapping his arms around her waist. It proved a bit of a task to make a full circle, so he settled for just placing his hands on her round – yet deceivingly muscular - bum instead. Perhaps her bum was an even nicer location to place his eager digits, he thought to himself.

She raised her brow, smiling. "Yes, your hands are uncontrollable Captain, I'm well aware of that fact."

"Aye!" He agreed. "My hands never fail me. But do you, dear _lady_, know how much of a temptation you proved to be? I doubt you realize that to the full extent."

She laughed aloud then. Her laughter reminded him of bells and he smiled in return.

"Dear Sir, if you'd dare to gander at what once was my waist, you'd know the answer to your query. Yet you Sir, proved to be the only temptation a girl like myself could not resist. But, on the other hand, who am I to resist temptation? It would – no doubt - ruin my established name."

Her speech was impeccable – as his had been - no salt-water-accent or slur and they both burst out laughing after she'd finished her decree.

"Oh 'n I'm no _lady_, Sparrow." She hiccupped as soon as she'd caught her breath.

"No need to remind me, tart!"

* * *

Devon entered the bar first, Jack and her bulldog following in her wake when she found all eyes upon her person.

"What is it Elaine?" She snarled to the petite redhead Jack had conversed with the night before.

The waitress looked at Devon with narrowed eyes, hate – or was it envy – radiating off her gaze.

"Well?" Devon urged. "Lost yer tongue?"

Elaine chose to ignore Devon and focus her attention on the pirate Captain behind her. "Hello Captain Sparrow, fancy seein' you again."

Jack smiled, the man simply couldn't help himself; when an attractive woman smiled he just had to return the favour. "Hello."

"Can I get you anythin' Capt'n?"

"Yes", Devon intervened, snarling. "You can, if ye'd fetch me luggage I'd be eternally grateful."

"I wasn't talkin' to you, Duville!" The wench hissed.

"I'm aware o' that, hussy! But since the Captain and I are in a hurry I took the liberty o' answering fer him."

"Oh, 'ow would _you _know what the Capt'n wants, ye big fat cow?" The redhead huffed angrily.

Devon's eyes gleamed dangerously, but Jack held her back. "Elaine, darling girl." He purred, wrapping an arm around her tiny shoulders. The girl's heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at the Captain. "Listen to me. Ye see, my dearest girl, this cow – as you so lovingly call her – knows better what I want and need than anyone I 'ave ever met. In fact, she just – only moments ago - gave me the most scrumptious orgasm any man could ever wish for. And not for the first time, mind ye, nor the last… ye see Elaine, Duville carries the fruit of our unclad sinful labour inside of her and I'd really hate to see her put it in jeopardy if she were to strike you and other wise harm… our babe."

Elaine's eyes widened in shock and all other occupants of the bar fell silent. The girl wiggled out of Jacks' embrace and stomped off.

Devon grinned and kissed Jack whispering, "thanks," into his ear, before striding to the counter.

Victor stared at the two pirates at his counter and was lost for words. Moments passed with the barkeep just staring from Devon to Jack and vice versa.

"Victor, dear, we're in a hurry, so can we just pay our tab and be off? We have ships to catch." Devon said warmly, placing her hand on Victor's.

"Y-yes, Devon, o'course…" he said confused as he looked at Devon once more. _That_ was why she had looked a bit heavier set. She was pregnant!! By _him_ no less! If he hadn't just heard the news from the Captain himself he would have dismissed this information as plain old tittle-tattle - but it had to be true.

He rummaged through his papers, scribbled some figures on to a tab and did some calculations before handing it to Devon. "There you are. I – I believe congratulations are in order then?"

Jack paid the amount of money Devon owed and thanked him for his help and warm wishes. Devon leaned across the countertop best she could in her condition and kissed Victor softly on his cheek. "Thanks fer everythin' Vic. It was nice ta see you again. Say hello to Lola fer me."

* * *

When they arrived at the docks the familiar sight of two grand pirate ships greeted them. One ship black as the night, the other a lighter shade of wood, with painted lines that were as crimson as freshly drawn blood.

"Still can't believe he didn't sail off." Devon whispered, mostly to herself.

Jack, who held Bullet's line, smiled at the sight of his _Pearl. _

As if she'd read his thoughts Devon said, "your ship is truly beautiful Jack. I see a bit of me dad's _Devotion_ in her. Though the _Dark Devotion_ wasn't black, just a dark shade of brown…"

"I think your old man would be very proud if he could see you now." He said as he looked at her.

"All knocked up you mean? Yeah, I take it that's every father's greatest desire. To have 'is only daughter wind up pregnant by an infamous Pirate Captain and no ring on her finger… Aye, I'm sure every father wants that for 'is only daughter." The sarcasm in her voice made him smile, although her words stung him just a bit. _What if…_

"You mean you want to get _married_?" Jack almost shuddered at the thought, even when bein' married to Devon didn't seem quite that awful.

"Hell no!" She laughed. "And completely ruin both our reputations? What would the world be coming to?"

He kissed her then, pulling her to a stop and sweeping her into his arms. Without words she knew that he had as little desire to be wed as she had. They were perfect together as they were, no ring or piece of paper would add to that. Besides she had always vowed never to get married after the Francis-debacle - and she had no desire to break that vow. Not even for a man like Jack.

Sparrow treated her as an equal; she wasn't put down or put on a pedestal and he didn't desire or demand to be placed on a pedestal either, unlike her prior fiancé. He was on her level in mind and body. The only difference between them was their rank, but she didn't have a problem with that anymore. When they were together status didn't matter and as long as he wasn't _her_ Captain they would be fine.

"I'm yours Jack Sparrow. Just don't cage me and I'll always come back to you."

They shook hands then, in all seriousness. "Agreed." Jack said. "If… you apply the same rule to me."

"Agreed. No cages, no shackles, no wedding bells!"

"What does that leave us with then?" He asked as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She grinned wickedly. "Delightful, sinful bliss."

"Hmmm I don't know 'bout you.." he smirked mischievously, "but I don't want to rule out those shackles just yet…"

"You're hopeless, Jack Sparrow!" She snorted and kissed him passionately. When she broke away she whispered into his ear, "but I can work with that!"

"I was hoping you would."

* * *

Jack led her to the longboat he had used to row to shore and helped her aboard. Or at least he tried to, because – just as he'd expected - the stubborn tart wouldn't have any of it. Her dog however just waited to be picked up and set down in the dingy.

When she sat down he said, "and don't even think I'll let _you_ row this time!"

"Why the Hell not!? I have more strength in me arms than you, dear Capt'n!"

He made a face at her, and quickly took the oars in hand. "I'll just pretend I didn't hear that."

She smiled sweetly at him before shouting, "I'm sorry I forgot yer getting' older, want me ta speak louder?"

Jack started rowing and hissed from between his clenched teeth, "Insolent wench!"

Soulmate or not, he'd never get used to that mouth of hers.

When they were getting closer to the ships they heard shouting and before they knew it both crews were cheering them on. Their eyes met for a brief moment and they burst into laughter.

"Ye reckon they placed bets on us?" Devon asked while she waved at her crewmates.

Jack smiled "Oh yes."

"If I'd come back with ye or not?"

"Or if I'd still be in one piece as I returned - or if I returned at all…"

"Or if ye'd still be a man after findin' me…" she added. "I'm not that horrible a person am I?"

"Not all the time anyway." Jack said, "ye're rather sweet when ye sleep."

"Wanker!"

"Sticks 'n stones, my sweet strumpet."

* * *

When Devon set foot on the Pearl again, after the boat was pulled up by several of Jacks crewmen she smiled when she saw all eyes on her.

AnaMaria was the first one to come to her and Gibbs followed in her wake.

"Glad ta 'ave ye back, Dee!" Ana said hugging her friend.

"I'm glad ta be back."

Gibbs embraced her as soon as Ana had let her go and the older man's hug was tighter than a corset would have been. "Glad the two o' ye finally came to yer senses, lass!"

She smiled warmly as she kissed the old man on his whiskered cheeks. "Thank ye for everything Mr. Gibbs. I'll not forget what you've done for me… us."

The older man had the decency to blush and said "Please, Devon. Call me Joshamee."

"Thanks Josh." She said with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Josh, now that's a new one." Jack said over Devon's shoulder.

"Well, I said Miss. Duville is welcome to call me _Joshamee_." Gibbs explained, overly articulating his full name.

When they heard cheers coming from the seaside, they saw the Hazard drawing nearer.

"Ah, excellent thinking Drake!" Jack bellowed. "Gents! Connect the ships! I think a celebration is in order!"

Even more cheers surrounded them and Jack pulled Devon to him as the Hazard pulled itself closer towards the Pearl.

"Gentlemen!" Jack shouted, making sure he got the attention of both crews. "I'd like to introduce you all to my better half. You all know Miss. Duville, the mother of my child!"

There was a short silence after that introduction; everyone looked around to see how others reacted. Captain Isaac Drake and his physician smiled, standing on the Hazards' rail. "She looks happy." Martin Cooper stated as he looked at Devon. "That she does." Drake confirmed.

Marty finally spoke up first, while the rest of the Pearl's crew were searching for words. "Well, congrats Capt'n! We knew all that practice wouldn't go fruitlessly!"

A wave of laughter hit the ships and Devon found herself compelled to join in. The short man was right after all, they'd been at it like rabbits and his crew didn't even know the half of it.

She glanced at Jack, who had yet to respond, but when she took his hand he laughed along with them.

"This mean ye're stayin' aboard the Pearl then?" Ana asked after the laughter had subsided a bit.

"Nay, I'll continue stayin' on the Hazard, better that way…" Devon said.

"I see, but what after the babe's born?"

Devon shrugged her shoulders. "We'll figure that out when the time arrives, but first it 'as to be able to get born. My body ain't fit for becoming a mother, there's so much that could go wrong…"

Ana raised her eyebrow "What do ye mean?"

When Devon didn't answer, she didn't press the matter, something about the way Devon looked made her feel uncomfortable. Obviously she didn't want to talk about it.

* * *

"I'm glad you went after her, Jack," Drake said patting his fellow Captain on the shoulders.

"So am I. Didn't expect her to come back wit' me though."

"But she did, that's all that matters. Is she well?" Drake asked as he glanced at his first mate from over Jack's shoulder.

Sparrow followed his gaze and nodded. "She's alright. Scared about the whole parent thing but she's doin' alright. We'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will, you make a fine couple." Isaac Drake spoke warmly.

Jack smiled broadly slinging an arm around Isaac's shoulders. "I think we should drink to that, what say you?"

Drake shouted, "mates, drinks all around!! We've got somethin' to celebrate!"

Jack pouted. "I just said that!"

"I know ye did, but I 'ave yet to see a single drop, my friend!"

Devon popped her head around Jack's and said, "let's fix that shall we?" And tried to make her way down into the Pearl's belly in order to at least get one bottle of rum to uncork, but even before she was able to make a full turn, Jack grabbed hold of her upper arm. "Where do ye think yer goin'?"

"Down," she stated.

"Down?"

"Yes, down, to get a bit o' rum."

He narrowed his eyes at her "Do you even know _where_ I keep me rum?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "I know a lot more than you give me credit fer, Captain Sparrow. Besides I can always find rum, or rather it finds me…"

"Not this time it wont - ye're not 'avin' any of it!"

"But I—"

Jack looked at her sternly "You are pregnant; no liquor will go down yer lovely throat until the babe's born."

"Can I snort it up me nose instead then?" Devon snarled sarcastically, but when her gaze met Jack's she huffed, "fine, go fetch it yerself then!" And stomped off towards her crewmates.

TBC

_A/N Sorry this chapter took so long, but here it is; just like I promised - just before I go on holiday to Italy (for 3 glorious weeks!) . I can hardly wait, after all the crap that's happened to us this year we feel we really deserve a break! Any of you guys have plans for a vacation? And if so, where are you going? We're headed for Paçengo di Lazise at the Garda Lake. It's so beautiful there, and this time I want to visit Verona (to see the balcony of Romeo's Juliette) and of course Venice... so romantic! I've got the next chapter mostly written, but it still needs a bit of work. I'm planning to do that during my vacation, so hopefully you'll be able to read it shortly after I'm back (when my lovely beta the ever clever and wonderfully witty **FunkyFlamingo** finds time to edit said chapter). _

_I'd like to thank the following readers for adding me/the story to their favourites; thanks you all very very much! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!_

_**Everyone Loves An Irish Girl - LoonyNow17 - RoseOfSilence13 - Crowned Black Hearts.pub **_

_Review-reply to **Smithy**: thank you for your kind and encouraging words, reading your review made me feel a bit better so thank you very much for that. We'll get another dog someday, come fall perhaps, but not right away, that doesn't seem fair to Muppet and we're not ready yet. _

_To all of you who take the time to review or pm me: I'm eternally grateful for all your feedback; I love you guys! _

_You guys rock!!_

_Hugs from Holland,_

_Angela_

_Posted: 09-07-2008_


	43. Moonlight Madness

_Disclaimer; I don't own anything besides Devon, her Captain and her crew and my own imagination. All the rest belongs to the mouse!_

_This chapter is dedicated to_ _**Geanna**; you know why dear! Hope you're feeling a bit better!_

_Great big hugs from yours truly._

* * *

_In the night when the moon had a thousand faces  
The secret was revealed to me_

_Revealed Secrets of the Whispering moon - Ambigor_

**_Chapter 43_**

**_- Moonlight Madness -_**

The pirate alliance had been at sea for a few weeks and things were relatively normal at this point. There had been a storm, but nothing both crews and ships couldn't handle – both Captains were able men, both female first-mates capable and thus both ships had remained unscratched. Devon stayed on the Hazard, like she said she would and Jack...well Jack stayed on his Pearl of course. Every now and then the Captains had to meet on either ship and when the ships were aligned Drake or Jack along with either first mate would cross over. Devon longed for those meetings as did Jack, because they had a chance to see and feel each other after – or sometimes even secretly _during_- those meetings. Devon would occasionally spend the night on the Pearl, comfortable in Jacks arms. Drake didn't object to that; the man was happy enough Devon was still with them in the first place. None of the crewmembers complained either, since everyone was happy for Devon and Jack.

Captain Isaac Drake had never seen Devon happier. She seemed to have accepted her pregnancy with Jack's help and Isaac knew that they would make it work together. Devon would never leave him or _The Hazard_, not even after the baby was born, she had made it clear she would stay on her ship and Drake believed her. Devon could lie and cheat in most situations but she was honest when it came to loyalty. And her loyalty lay on _The Hazard_ with him as her Captain. Her heart's loyalty lay, however, with the Captain of another pirate ship called _The Black Pearl_.

Jack's crew – Mr. Gibbs of all people in particular – were certain Jack Sparrow had found his match in Devon. Joshamee Gibbs had grown rather fond of 'Lucifer's Daughter' – as he had called her often in the past – and Devon had taught him – and the _Pearl's _gunners how to use the ship's guns more effectively. Her lessons in weaponry – and the rum she secretly filled his flask with – had made him come to admire the apple of his Captain's eye during the time that had passed. His head was no longer filled with fear when it came to her, but his old heart had filled with admiration for the woman who had proven to be worthy of Jack's adoration. Devon had proven herself to him and the rest of the _Pearl's_ crew in any way a woman possibly could and he accepted Devon – and her quirks – wholeheartedly. Even though she was pregnant, she never complained and when Drake hadn't assigned her duties she would help wherever she could on the _Pearl_. Jack couldn't have been more proud of his quartermaster and he was glad his old friend and his girl finally got along. Devon had often regarded Gibbs as a father figure and Joshamee Gibbs had seemingly accepted his new role.

* * *

Devon was in _The Hazard's_armoury instructing a few men, including DaCosta, in the same procedures over and over again. Devon Duville wasn't ever known for patience, but since her pregnancy she snapped even sooner. The somewhat clumsy DaCosta, needless to say, was on the wrong end of her temper most of the time.

"Duville ?" Hoggins' voice came from behind them.

Devon turned around. "Aye? What is it?"

"Capt'n Sparrow wants a word," his eyes looked apologetic because he was interrupting her instructions. "E's right outside"

"Tell him I'm busy." Devon snapped, more agitated with her apprentice than with Hoggins or Jack for that matter, while her narrowed eyes returned to DaCosta. "Did ye not pay attention, lad? I've shown ye this same bleedin' procedure a dozen times and still ye manage ta screw it up!" She growled. "We must 'ave been over this a thousand times and still ye manage to surprise me with your lack of talent. At least _pretend_ to be interested for once! Ye do _want_ to be a gunner do ye not?!"

Her apprentice nodded briskly and his shaky hands fumbled with the remaining pieces of the flintlock again.

"If ye'd pay as much attention to me 'ands and words as ye do to me bleedin' chest, methinks the procedures would most certainly stick!" She grumbled. Her harsh but very true words made DaCosta's cheeks flush a deep shade of red and the other men – including the two in the doorway - chuckle.

"Dee, the Capt'n said 'e won't be leavin' until ye speaks with 'im." Hoggins carefully tried again after swallowing down his laughter, shrugging his shoulders in an apologetic manner to Jack, who was still perched behind him.

Devon shook her head; because of her outburst she hadn't understood all that Hoggins had said. "I'm sorry Hoggins, what did ye say?"

"Mr. Hoggins said that I'm not leaving until I've had a word, Miss. Duville. If ye can spare me a few moments of yer most valuable time?" Jack said; his voice smooth as velvet as he stepped past Hoggins and over the threshold.

"Jack." Devon stated simply, although she was anxious to see him here.

"Capt'n, don't ye be forgettin' the Capt'n," he corrected her.

"I'm ever so sorry Capt'n Sparrow, I forget my place." She mocked.

"Lads? Leave us if ye please." She said to her crewmates as she mentioned Jack to come in further. "Oh, 'n' DaCosta, if ye don't get it right by nightfall I'll have ye mop the decks fer the rest 'o our journey. Mark my words!" The younger man winced as he picked up his tools and the remains of his pistol.

"Why are ye here Jack?" Devon asked after their audience had left. Her voice still contained a tinge of anger because of DaCosta but her eyes sparkled again now that they could feast on Jack's delicious form.

Jack frowned, then took her by the elbow and led her towards the shutters on their left. "Does a man need to have a reason to visit the one he loves?"

When she didn't answer, he told her the true reason of his visit. "I've been wondering...when ye looked at that map and when it burned ye - what did you do?"

Devon rose an eyebrow. "How d' ye mean what did I do? I didn't do anything. I just studied it and then it decided to scare the bejezus out o' me!"

"Well...ye see - we've studied it again just now, Drake and I, and it's not making any sense." Jack explained.

"What isn't?" She questioned as she proceeded to quickly re-assemble the pistol she had taken apart to show DaCosta – once again - how it had to be cleaned.

"The map - your course. Ye've written down coordinates that don't make sense, Devon."

Devon didn't know what to say. She had to admit she had been at least a _little_ preoccupied while she had charted her course; it had been after she'd found out she was pregnant with Jack's child and just before she left her ship and crew. But she _did_ write down the right course, she was fairly certain of that. At least, she _had_ been certain of that up till now.

"I saw ye calculate the course and it made sense then," Jack said when he saw her brow wrinkle. "But now…Drake and I want ye ta take a look at it again. Just to make sure."

"Make sure about what?" She snapped suddenly. "Make sure the pregnant first-mate ain't losin' her mind!? Jack I'm serious, that map is haunted. I've told ye and Drake the islands keep moving!" She snapped. "Which reminds me, why aren't ye on the Pearl? Was there a meeting I forgot to attend?"

"No luv, no official meeting. I swung over when Drake called fer me. We're sailing in the general right direction we believe, but we need ye ta take a look at the map again, maybe you can make sense of it." After a short silence he added, "besides the map-mystery, I must admit that I've missed ye."

Devon smiled despite her earlier agitation. "I've missed ye too, Jack, but we can't just jump ships on a whim whenever we have the desire to see each other…"

Jack's eyes narrowed "I don't see why not. When I want to see you I'm going to see you simple as that. No one can stop me."

Devon's heart swelled with joy, but she couldn't help but feel a slight worry "There'll be talk amongst the crews no doubt, don't you see? I don't want to cause uproar just because we're together now. Others don't get these privileges and I don't want them to -"

"They're all aware of the situation Devon," Jack interjected. "I'm sure they all understand that I want to check up on you every now and again. Have you heard complaints from them before now? I haven't and Drake doesn't object to it either; he even lets you spend the night with me every now and then. We're together Devon; everyone knows we want to spend time together even when we sail on separate ships…" Jack said right before he bent down to kiss her. When their lips touched and when their lips parted their tongues found each other. Devon got lost in his kiss and completely forgot about the point she was trying to make.

Jack broke away after a while, taking her smaller hand in his "Come on. Let's take a look at that map again, me bonny lass."

* * *

"Duville! Did Captain Sparrow inform you?" Drake asked as they entered the Captains Quarters.

"Aye, he did. Said me calculations are worthless."

"Well not worthless, per se, it's just that they don't make sense anymore. Nor do mine for that matter." Her Captain said as he scratched his wigless head.

"So it isn't just me," she said in relief, more to herself then the others.

She sat herself down behind the large oak chart-table and studied the map again. The Inca ring was on top of the map and she picked it up to play with it. She was nervous about the map – it still spooked her, and looking at the map made her think about the marking again and it frustrated her immensely that she hadn't figured it out yet. She needed a drink - a stiff one. But since both her "guardians" were here preventing her from even _looking_at a bottle, she settled for toying with the horrendous piece of gold that was currently in her fingers in order to calm her nerves. Before she gave her zest for rum any more thought, she decided she'd best focus all her attention on the map that lay in front of her. When she heard the tingling of glasses and gulping sounds she looked up to see that both Captains had poured themselves a nice drink. "Oh, how very considerate of you! Drink in front of the pregnant woman who needs the rum even more than you lot! Thanks fer nothin ye evil bastards!" Devon growled as she angrily cast her eyes from the rum to the chart again.

Jack and Drake shared a look of sympathy but didn't dare respond. Jack felt sorry for Drake for having to deal with Devon in a professional relationship and Drake empathized with Jack for having a personal relationship with the woman. They both knew that Devon could be impossible at times.

When neither of the Captains took the bait to engage in a verbal battle with her, Devon focused her eyes on the chart but couldn't find anything strange about it now. It looked the same as it had done before. Well, it _was_ a strange map and she was certain the map was haunted, but it didn't look any different than it had looked before. No water this time, no moving or floating about; it was just a map. She took out her tools and got to work.

Jack moved across Drake's quarters after a while, he strolled towards the bay windows and pushed back the thick velvet curtains a bit to enjoy the view of the moonlight as it hit the waves. _The Pearl_ had pulled up alongside when he had swung over but now it sailed smoothly in _The Hazard's_ wake and he thoroughly enjoyed the sight. His dark ship was bathed in moonlight and she was truly a remarkable sight; grand, majestic and imposing, but most importantly: _his_. He loved the way she looked now, the full dark sails stood out now that the moon shone on them.

As the silvery rays of moonlight fell on the ancient parchment, something strange happened… The islands started moving again, very slowly but calculatingly. Devon watched in awe as the islands moved to - yet again - other coordinates. Then a shadow fell over the chart and the unnerving moving ceased. Devon looked up from the map to see Jack standing before the windows.

"Jack, mo-move away from the window," she stammered, her voice little over a whisper.

"What?" He asked but turned away from the window to look at her. When he did, sure enough the islands started moving on the map, as soon as the silver rays of the moon touched the parchment again.

Devon had to rub her eyes twice, still clenching the ring in her hand, but Jack's eyes widened as he witnessed the moving islands and Drake was too confused to do anything other than stare at the map with an open mouth.

"Pinch me an' tell me I'm dreamin'…" Devon whispered to no one in particular.

"Yer awake luv, we all are, though I wouldn't mind the pinchin'…." He retorted slyly, but his eyes narrowed to slits as they followed the moving drawings intently.

"Tis a delirium, I've 'ad far too much absinthe in the past…my insomnia is finally gettin' the better o' me. Please tell me this is _not_ happening again." She mumbled, mostly to herself as she touched the map to convince herself her eyes were playing tricks on her. When she touched the paper with her left hand, she felt a vicious jolt in her right; the hand in which she still held the ring. In shock she dropped the ring on the map.

When the Inca gold made contact with the chart, it moved slowly yet very deliberately, as if an invisible hand were guiding it, along the coordinates until it held still at Isla del Luna. It twirled around for a few moments, shimmering in the moonlight before it finally stopped. The ring covered the drawing of a gate on the island.

"What the in the name o' Lucifer was tha'?" Devon stammered as all the blood drained from her face, never taking her eyes away from the map and the ring. "I've told ye lot the thin' is cursed, have I not?! _Now_ do ye believe me?!"

"Devon darlin' are ye alright?" Jack asked rubbing her tense shoulders with his hands, also not believing what had just happened.

"If ye're gonna tell me the two of ye also saw that...I'll live…if not…I need ta get me head examined."

Drake finally caught his tongue and spoke even though his voice was slightly unsteady. "Aye Devon…we've seen it."

Jack released Devon's shoulders to rub his chin. "Somethin' tells me ye've jus' unravelled the mystery as to on which island the treasure is buried…and _where._" He said while he glanced at the chart again. "I told you you're connected to this treasure!" He said nudging Devon's side.

Drake nodded Devon still stared at the ring… it had jolted her… the sensation was different from when the map had burned her, yet it was just as real as when she'd gotten the mark on the flesh of her hip. She moved her finger towards it... carefully touching it again. Nothing happened. Then she put her other finger on the Isla del Luna chart and touched the gold again… she winched and quickly drew her hand back… confusion and wonder was written all over her face… She stared up at the moon in wonder…

* * *

After a new course was charted by both Captains and Devon, Jack excused himself and strolled back to the gangplank.

"Ye can go with him Devon. I don't want you to sleep alone tonight. You'll worry too much." Drake said, gesturing towards the Pearl.

"Wouldn't _you_ worry? This treasure is unsettling ta say the least. It frustrates the Hell out of me that I can't figure it out!"

"You've led us to the location; you were the only one who could figure that out. Go with Jack, I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well."

Devon nodded. "Will ye tell someone to watch Bullet for me then?"

Drake smiled and nodded, shooing her out of his office. "Off with you!"

Devon made her way on deck, she whistled on her fingers when she saw that Jack had already made his way across the gangplank that connected the two ships after the signal had been given. He turned around, smiling.

"Can I interest you in a bunk-mate for the night, Capt'n?" she asked impishly, as Jack already held out a hand to help her up the plank.

"Depends on how much ye're charging, miss. I'm naught but a humble pirate ye see?" His golden smile shimmered in the moonlight.

"Tonight's free of charge, although you know I'm worth every single guinea you own." Devon smiled, resting her hand in his. "Or I could just pull out those teeth while ye sleep… real gold are they?" She added tauntingly.

His face pulled into a grimace "You wouldn't dare!" Then he smiled at her slyly, "I suppose that gem in your tooth is a real genuine diamond then?"

She sighed rolling her eyes. "Alright mister you've won, we leave the teeth were they are and tonight shall be free of charge."

"Agreed!" He growled low in his throat as he pulled her closer to him. "Now, I want less talk and more … well, getting you into my bed."

"You're such a romantic." Devon laughed.

"Didn't think wooing was in order, since ye're practically offering yourself to me." Jack quipped matter-of-factly as he gently kissed Devon's lips.

She broke away slightly "Well, although that's very true, ye must admit that a little gentle persuasion never hurt anyone…"

* * *

As he gently traced the lines and curves of her body, lingering on the tattoos on her hips, his fingers grazed the marking on her skin. "Haunted or not, if it weren't for this treasure we wouldn't be together." He said, gently kissing the part of her skin where his digits had been.

"I suppose." She answered as goose bumps formed on her skin, leaving her shivering from his delicate touches. "Just wish I understood what it means…"

"As do I. But we'll figure it out once we get to the treasure I'm sure."

"It must be powerful… since it made me fertile again." Devon mumbled as she gently stroked her swollen belly.

"That's not the treasure's doing, luv." Jack said cockily. "I'll have you know I seem to have very strong semen."

She snorted, laughing a little. "Dear _Captain _Jack Sparrow, you have very strong and able _seamen_, but I strongly doubt I would have gotten pregnant if this treasure hadn't shown up."

He studied her face for a moment before asking the question that had always lingered in the back of his mind; "so you've never been pregnant before? Not with all the men you've slept with? Assuming there were quite a few before me…" his tone was light, but the question and the underlying accusation were serious enough. He knew her reputation with men and as hypocritical of him it was to feel jealous about it, he simply couldn't help himself.

The fact that he looked deep into her eyes as he verbalised his question, made Devon swallow down her initial reaction and the anger that came with it. "No. Never Jack. This is my first pregnancy, and hopefully it will be my last as well."

"Never took precautions?"

"I did - before the attack that was - but after that… no, it wasn't necessary."

"Regrets?" He asked after placing several feather light kisses on her collarbone.

"Would it be horrible of me to say I do have regrets? If I wished I could turn back the time and prevent this pregnancy from happening?"

He looked up at her, tenderly pushing her hair away from her face. "No, I understand. I've never pictured myself as a father either. But we can't ignore the fact that we're becoming parents, Devon. I regret nothing! Ever…"

"You said ye have very strong semen," Devon muttered after a little while, ignoring Jack's previous 'lecture' as well as his confession, as she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Fathered a lot of offspring then?" She asked bluntly thinking that if he was allowed to ask these kinds of questions, she was entitled to getting a few answers of her own.

He was slightly shaken from her query, since after all, how sure could a man honestly be? "To be honest? None that I know of…" he answered truthfully. There had - of course - been many women, perhaps even more than he could even remember, but he honestly didn't know if he had fathered any children. The women that he had been with were mostly strumpets after all, they would certainly know better than to not take precautions. And sometimes he had taken precautions himself. He'd never been romantically involved with a woman. He'd never given anyone his heart before. He had to admit – even if it was only to himself – that he had been fascinated by the young Elisabeth Swann in the beginning. Perhaps if she hadn't been so deeply and completely infatuated with the Turner boy he would have had a chance of wooing her, but there had been no such chance and Jack had moved on to the next willing woman he'd cross paths with. There was a world of difference between Elisabeth and Devon, such as elegance and class, complexion and how they adorned their bodies, but there were similarities to find also if one took a closer look. Both women had stamina, both women could handle a sword and both women certainly had a way with words…

"Many potential mothers then?" Devon questioned again, shaking him out of his reverie as she gently kissed the hollow of his neck.

"Honestly?" He asked as gooseflesh formed on _his_ arms as well, due to her gentle ministrations.

"Hmmmn hmmmn - honestly. Well, as honest as a lying, cheating, stealing outlaw can be of course." She said as she propped herself up on one elbow and traced the lines of his healed latest tattoo. "_He has my name on his chest… isn't that enough proof that he loves me? Why do I have to keep testing him? I know there've been others, why do I even ask?"_ She thought, but she knew she needed to get an answer, despite how it would make her feel.

"Many." He stated simply, caressing her collarbone delicately.

"Figured as much…" she retorted flatly. "I guess we're both known for our insatiable thirst for the other species." To her dismay his answer did have an effect on her and she hated the fact that it made her jealous.

"How many were there then," Jack asked. "Before me?"

Devon frowned as she started counting in thought, but gave up after a while; she knew she couldn't remember all of the men with whom she had ever shared a bed. Had she really been that shallow? That selfish? "I don't know, Jack," she finally answered. "There've been a lot I wager."

He had the decency to look a bit dumbfounded, "I see…"

She pulled him closer to her. "Oh no, Jack Sparrow, don't give me that. Ye've been no shred better than I; we're both tainted by our past! Don't you dare hold mine against me. You knew o' me reputation when you met me…"

His mouth was inches away from hers as he spoke, she could feel his words on her lips as he said, "and you knew mine, we both knew what we were getting ourselves into."

"Then let's just drop this subject," she retorted, briefly claiming his well shaped lips. "What's done is done, and was mostly done well I suppose. We're both here now, together, in your bed. That's all that counts, right?"

Jack silently agreed as he parted her legs, settling himself between them, kissing her deeply as he pinned her beneath him.

Devon felt his arousal press against her sex and a slow smile formed on her lips. "What _ever_ has brought this on, Jack?" Devon purred innocently, a sardonic grin twisting her lips. "All the talk about other women?"

Jack effectively parted her legs further and he stroked her entrance with his fingers. "Oh no, little minx, you've brought this on yourself." His voice was hoarse as he gently teased her slick nub with his fingers. She gasped in delight, amazed at what his quick slender fingers could do to her. Jack had wanted to tease her longer, up to the point where she couldn't bear it anymore, but he found himself aching to be with her. His groin pulsated with every moan she uttered and when she started to grind her hips onto his fingers – her breathing shallow - he simply couldn't take it anymore. With one swift movement of his hips he slid inside her welcoming warmth and groaned at the sensation. "If it makes you feel better; I've never wanted any woman this bad…" he whispered into her hair before he plunged deep inside of her.

* * *

Devon awoke before dawn - the first bell had just tolled - and she flung her legs over the side of Jacks bed, ready to collect her clothes and belongings. Jack was still asleep and she had carefully moved the arm that he had placed on her hip back onto the bed. His soft snoring made her smile. He looked so innocent sleeping. If it hadn't been for the scars on his body, the healed and scarred over bullet holes in his chest and the inks on his skin – and of course his flamboyant hairdo – one could easily mistake him for a normal man. That thought made her grin. Jack was far from normal, but when he slept he seemed years younger and just didn't represent the grand pirate he actually was. She was truly in love with the sleeping man, more than she had ever dreamt possible, and the most amazing thing was that he was also in love with her.

She absentmindedly touched her stomach and her head was instantly filled with worry again. How could two pirates raise a child? Her father had been a pirate; true, but her mother hadn't shared his love for the adventures and the freedom the sea could provide and she had tried to prevent Devon from following the course destiny had provided. Jack's father had been a pirate as well – at least he had implied that - but what about _his_ mother? Strange how they had shared so much, but she didn't know anything about his parents or his past. Were his parents still alive? Who was his father? Had he ever told her that? She didn't think he had -she would have recalled it if he had, wouldn't she? As she pulled on her shirt she dug deep in her mind to see if she could recall him having ever spoken about his parents…

"What's gotten you worried, Vonnie?" Came his groggy voice from the bed.

She pulled her shirt over her head and looked at him, startled that he had obviously been awake as she had studied him. "What about your parents, Jack? You've never told me about them."

He stretched himself and lazily scratched his crotch. "Not much to tell. Me mum died some years ago, we didn't get along that well. Me dad's somewhere guarding the codex I believe. I haven't seen him in a few years."

"Your folks, are they... were they…" she struggled to find the words as she sat back down on Jack's bed.

"Pirates? Yes, they both were. Perhaps ye've heard of me dad, Captain Teague? Me mum was a crewmate he had exposed as a woman. Guess her disguise hadn't really prevented him from falling for her…"

"The keeper of the Code?" She looked at Jack - who nodded. "Why haven't ye told me about your parents before? I think me father knew your father… at least by name, I've heard the name Teague mentioned when I was younger."

"You never asked and I didn't think it was important. I wasn't as close to my parents as you were with yours, Devon. Me and me dad meet whenever the winds bring us together and we're fine with that."

"You don't miss them? Your mother? You miss her?"

"As I said, we didn't get along all that well. I was born aboard me dad's ship in the middle of a typhoon near the Indian coast, me mum always sailed with me dad, until he decided she should stay home and raise me properly. She tried but all her efforts couldn't prevent me from running off when I got the chance..."

"Seems like you were raised the same way I was huh?" Devon smiled. "We have more in common than I thought." When Jack rolled over to lie on his stomach, Devon's eyes were glued to the extensive tattoo on his bare back again.

"Desiderata," she read aloud. "Latin huh? I've never really read all of that. What exactly is it?" She asked, studying the words more intently than she had done in the past.

He grinned. "It's a 200 year old poem. I haven't read it either, at least not since it's on me back. I just hope the words are right and I wasn't ripped off when I got it."

"Where'd ye get it then? The same artist who made the sea-turtle?" She asked, touching his skin where an abstract turtle was tattooed on his right shoulder blade.

"No, the sea-turtle was there before. I had the Desiderata done in the Indies a few years back." He said.

She touched the calligraphic letters on his back, admiring the lettering as she started to read the words. "This is your motto?"

"It's my crest. I try to live by it best I can." He answered, rolling back over. "If you're a good girl, I'll let you read the whole of it one day." he teased.

"You'll use just about any excuse fer me to see you naked, ye vain pirate!" She snorted.

"I'm naked now aren't I? An' I have yet to hear you complain." He grinned shamelessly.

She rolled her eyes and raised her hands heavenward. "What am I to do with you?"

"Funny you ask. I _do_ have some very interesting suggestions that involve _you_ being naked as well…" He said mischievously as he pried Devon's trousers from her hands. Devon jumped on his bed, snatching her breeches from him again as she tickled his stomach.

"No fair! You know how ticklish I am!" He hiccupped in laughter as he tried to slap her hands away from his body.

"I do. I might tell tall tales about that fact whenever I get the chance… might crack your image a bit." She grinned, while tickling him in his sides. He grabbed her wrist when he got the chance and quickly rolled them over. "Methinks you deserve punishments for your actions, missy," he breathed against her lips.

"I can hardly wait," was all she was able to utter, before her vain Captain took her breath away.

TBC

* * *

A/N Sorry this chapter took a bit longer than I promised. Hope you can forgive me...

Thank all you readers and reviewers, you really make writing fanfiction worth while. I'm thankful for all your feedback and kind words. And I'd like to thank the talented Emma (funkyflamingo) for her editing skills. I really appreciate your help, sweetie!

In addition I'd like to thank the following readers for adding me or my story to their favourites:

**MoonPotter620** (your profile said you like OC's because they allow the author's creativity to come out; I hope that Devon comes across the way I intended her to; thank you for adding my story to your favourites. I'm honoured to make your list!) – **TeddyGeigerLover** (your profile is blank, so you remain a mystery, but I am honoured to make your list of favourites as well. Thank you for adding me!) – **CrystalizedTearsOfRemorse **(I really adore that penname of yours Kat, it really rocks! I am humbled to have made it to your favourites list! Thank you for adding me!) - **LoonyNow17**(Gaaf dat nu ook eens een landgenote me steun betuigt! Hartstikke bedankt Barbara!! Soms denk ik wel eens dat ik de enige Nederlandse ben op ff punt net… nice to have you aboard missy!) – **BabyBluewinx** (Angelina; nice name you have, sometimes I wish my name was Angelina instead of Angela, it just has a sexier ring to it! Thank you for adding me to your favourites list! It really is an honour!)

And last but not least to **Smithy**: Thank you for reminding me bout POTC's 5th anniversary on the 9th of July. Has it really been that long ago that we first feasted our eyes on that gorgeous scallywag? Your reviews are really very educative! I keep learning from them! Thanks hun!

And now for a bit of trivia, for those who seek answers: Desiderata is a poem written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920's. Jack has this tattoo on his back, although this is rarely seen in the movies - its' only appearance on film is during the Davy Jones' Locker sequence in "At World's End" It is visible on the bare back of one of the Jack Sparrow copies shortly before he is stabbed by the 'real' Jack. Pirates wikia dot com claims it to be a 15th century poem. I stick with the pirates wikia dot com explanation of Jacks mysterious tattoo and stick with their 15th century theory – even if it may be historically incorrect - since our beloved Jack sports it after all, hence the reason why Jack claims it to be a 200 year old poem in this chapter.

"Desiderata" is Latin and it means "desired things". If any of you are wondering: here's the poem:

_Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy_.

_Until next time._

_Love, Angela_

Posted: 15-08-2008


	44. Panic & Puddles

_Disclaimer; I don't own anything besides Devon, her Captain and her crew and my own imagination. __All the rest belongs to the mouse!_

_A/N I know, it's been AGES since I last posted, I've been busy with our new puppy "Bikkel" a fawn French Bulldog boy and he's more than a handful I can assure you! We lovehim to death though, he's so cute! I hope you can forgive me the delay and I hope you'll enjoy this next instalment. Special thanks go to FunkyFlamingo for editing this chapter!! Thank you hun, I greatly appreciate your help!_

_Now, without further ado I present you.. chapter 44. And... don't forget to leave a review on your way out!_

* * *

_I may not have the softest touch  
I may not say the words as such  
And though I may not look like much  
I'm yours._

_And though my edge is maybe rough  
I never feel I'm quite enough  
And it may not seem like very much  
But I'm yours._

_I'm yours – the script_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 44**

**Panic & Puddles**

Devon's struggles to detangle herself from Jack's greedy hands had finally resulted in success. She had managed to make it out of the bed and nearly safely back into her breeches when he lunged for her again.

"I can never get enough of you," he growled low in his throat as he pulled her close to him again. If anyone had told him – say a year ago – that he would find his soul mate and fall completely and utterly in love with a woman – _one_woman - he'd have laughed in their face. Yet it had happened and sometimes he still couldn't believeit. Even the mere smell of her made him feel so very much alive.

It took Devon a lot of willpower, but she managed to keep her desire in check. She knew that if she gave in, she'd never make it out of his bed - or out of his cabin for that matter.

"Well that's good, since there's an increasin' amount o' me; these here pants don't even fit me no more… if it weren't for me belt I couldn't even wear them," Devon breathed as she tried to hold her stomach in, in order to fasten her breeches. She knew her efforts were futile, but the vain part of her didn't want him to see she was gaining more and more weight.

He looked at her, raking his eyes over her figure appreciatively and tapping a finger to his chin in contemplation. "Wear some o' mine then!" he suggested, as he hopped off the bed and strolled towards his wardrobe, scratching his crotch.

Why men did that would always be a mystery to her. Was it to feel if it was still there? Was it because they'd forgotten they were men? To remind themselves they could pee while standing up? Was it because they forgot to wash that part of their bodies? She'd always found it revolting when other men scratched their goods, but with Jack, it was sort of adorable. When he opened his wardrobe for her and started rummaging through the piles of clothing she stopped him by placing her hand on his arm.

"Jack, unlike you I do have hips and a decent amount of flesh on me bum. Yer breeches wouldn't have fit me even before ye got me pregnant."

He looked at Devon again, tilting his head sideways a bit, and shrugged his shoulders. "You look beautiful, luv."

Devon looked at him, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. "You honestly think so?"

"Would I lie?" He said batting his lashes semi innocently, while he wrapped his arms around her.

"Yes, as a matter of fact - you would!" She snarled in his face.

"Alright I would, but not this time. Honestly Devon, you look marvellous, you're positively radiant."

She smiled back at him. "I love you, you know that?"

"I do, and who's ta blame ye…. Maybe ole Jack's got something for you to wear in the hold? We raided a nice merchant ship a while ago…" He mumbled, taking her by the hand. "I believe there were some wardrobe chests amongst the plunder, want to go have a look?"

"I really have to get back to the Hazard, Jack, Drake will be worried."

"No he won't," Jack interjected sternly. "He knows ye're here with me when ye're not on yer ship, you don't have a shift to work do you?"

She shook her head. "Not for a few hours I think, I'm on helm-shift this afternoon, but I wanted to take inventory before that…"

"Do it afterwards, come with me. Let's find ye a nice dress, shall we?" He asked, as he pulled her along.

"I. do. Not. Wear. Dresses!" She hissed, pulling them to a stop. "You _know_ that!"

"But I'm sure you'd look stunning in one." He countered, already trying to picture Devon in a nice low-cut dress. "Ravishing I imagine and even more the better that I get to do said ravishing. Just try one on, just for me…please?"

"I most certainly will not wear one of those death-traps, even if it gets ye hard. I couldn't possibly move in one - and since moving is a necessity for anyone aboard a pirate ship… I will not wear a dress. Ever." She said sweetly, but the dark look in her eyes contradicted her light intonation completely.

Jack swallowed hard, shrugging his shoulders. "Alright, point taken. Though ye have to know, it's not the dress that gets me hard luv. It's the _wearer_." He emphasized this by wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Good thing Mr. Gibbs never wears a dress then eh?" Devon replied sarcastically.

Jack ignored her snide comment and pulled her along. "Now don't dally luv, let's take a look at what we've acquired."

"Stolen you mean." She said mockingly raising an eyebrow.

"Details, luv." He retorted dismissively as he pushed the door open.

-0-0-0-0-0-

She rummaged through yet another trunk and held up a pair of wide black breeches.

"These will do I suppose." She stated, holding them up to her waist.

"And yet again you manage to produce another pair that look exactly the same as the other ones you've pulled out and in the exact same colour." He said in a bored tone as he studied his grimy fingernails.

"You were the one that suggested I take a look here, remember? I don't need a chaperone." Devon snapped in return. "Ye don't have ta stay here, I can manage jus' fine by meself. By all means don't let me keep ye."

"You're trying them on, right?" He said, polishing his dirty fingernails on his once-white shirt.

Devon rolled her eyes. "Yes Jack, that would be the point if I want to see if they fit."

"Hence the reason I'm here." He stated matter-of-factly with a grin on his face as he looked pointedly at her naked leg before – much to his chagrin - it hid itself inside the pant leg again.

"Insatiable much?" She asked as she pulled the breeches up, and was relieved to find they fit her and she still had room to breathe.

"When it comes to you or treasure; yes very much," he said huskily, twirling his moustache upwards. "That's what you'd call healthy appetite, my dearest."

Devon rolled her eyes and fastened the breeches. "Now that I've finally got a pair that fits, ye're not gettin' me out o' them again, Capt'n."

The grin he gave her was positively predatory and his voice was so deep it made Devon's stomach flip as he said: "I realise that that is what you think, my darling girl, but deep down you know me better than that. **Captain Jack Sparrow **can accomplish anything."

It took her a while to respond; it was startling to know what his voice alone could do to her and it was annoying, to say the least, that he had such an influence on her.

"That's what _you _think," she responded as casually as she could. "But this time I have work to do, and so long as I'm still able, I'll do what's been assigned to me."

He pouted. "But I'm asking you to stay."

"I realise that. But unlike Drake you're _not_my Captain, monchér." She answered, kissing him softly on the stubble on his cheek. "I'll see you soon, Jack. Save up all that passion for our next meeting."

He got up and was behind her in a flash, pulling her back towards him, so his front was pressed to her backside - and that's when they were both shocked. Jack was shocked because of Devon's abrupt stop and Devon was shocked because of the sudden sensation inside of her that was unlike anything she had ever felt before.

"It moved…" She stammered. "I've never felt anything like this before," Devon said, turning around to face Jack again.

Jack looked at her with narrowed eyes. "What moved, luv?"

All she was able to utter was; "The..." and she pointed at her stomach.

"The baby? How do ye mean "moved"… does it hurt?" He asked as he stared at her in disbelief, contemplating weather or not to touch her stomach again.

"Not really, it's just an odd sensation…." She said softly. "Now that I really think of it, I think part of me is scared out of my wits that there's a livin' thing growing inside o' me… but no, it doesn't really hurt."

His brown eyes were locked on her stomach for a moment before they rose up to meet hers. "Amazing."

"Hmmm hmmmm. Scary but amazing at the same time. All things considered…" She said tentatively.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a warm embrace "You really can't stay a little while longer?"

She grinned and kissed the tip of his well shaped nose. "No, I really can't. I have work to do and so do you, you old pirate."

"Hey, I'm not old!" He grinned. "But I do think I should rest… want to accompany an old Captain to his bed?"

She kissed him again, smiling against his whiskered mouth. "You never give up do you?"

"Nay, And ye love me fer it!"

"I don't have the time Jack, and nor do you." She told him sternly.

He pouted, his eyes glistening with mischief. "What I have in mind doesn't have to take all that long."

Her lips curled upwards as she grinned at him. "Well… I suppose I could spare a few more minutes." And with that she tugged him into a corner on their right, already unfastening his belt and kicking out her boots. By the time he had lifted her and thrust inside her, Gibbs had found it time to assign AnaMaria to go down to the hold and check the supplies. When the dark skinned woman descended the stairs down to the hold she tilted her head when she heard sounds coming from below. Sword drawn she carefully stepped down, ready to strike if needed. When she'd nearly reached the bottom of the stairs, she realised what she was hearing and sheathed her sword again. "He _has_ a bedroom, why not use that?" She thought, but stopped to listen spite of herself…

"Let me get dressed Jack, surely you can't be up for seconds?"

He panted for a few moments, trying to slow his heartbeat down, then he cupped her chin and kissed her deeply. "Give us a few more minutes and I'll make ye come so hard that even the barnacles shiver."

Devon pushed herself away from Jack and grabbed her newly acquired trousers. "Promises…" She semi-pouted, before quickly putting on her breeches and boots.

"Devon?"

"Hmmm?"

"Stay with me."

She glanced at him as she buttoned her shirt. "I've told you, Drake's expecting me -"

"No," he interjected. "Stay with me for the length of this journey."

She looked at him, not sure what to make of his suggestion. "I mean it Devon, stay on the Pearl. I know we agreed otherwise, but I'd feel much better if ye stay close to me."

Devon swallowed. "No Jack, you _think_ you'd feel better. I _think_ it would make me feel better - but we both know that it's not going to work. I'll come visit now and then, and after the babe's born you can come visit me more often, but I'm not going to stay with you and ruin what we have."

He sighed. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, princess, but what I referred to is your temporary state. I'd like to keep an eye on you. Personally that is."

Devon continued dressing before she spoke again. "Captain, I've told you this many times before and I'll tell you many times again: I can watch out for myself I don't need you to chaperone me. Honestly Jack, Drake will notify you when the time has come, until then you'll just have to trust me."

"You don't want me near you?"

"I can't work when you're near me."

"You _shouldn't_ even work in your state." He countered, softly stroking the swell of her belly.

She looked at his hand on her stomach and placed her own atop it. "If I don't work I'll go mad, Jack."

"Why do you have to fight me on every subject?" He asked as he entwined his fingers with hers.

"I'm not fighting you, Sparrow." She sighed.

"Sure sounds as if ye are."

Then both pirates stopped arguing and looked down at Devon's stomach and the hands that lay atop it, as the baby stirred again. "It moved!'' Jack breathed as he pressed his hand down a bit harder.

For a few moments the two of them concentrated on the movement inside of Devon's womb. The pirate Captain in awe, because of how the movement felt beneath his hand, the First Mate in confusion because of how the movement made her feel. Was it supposed to comfort a mother to be? To reassure them everything was in order? To Devon it only proved that the baby was real – and not a horrible dream - and that she was in fact going to become a mother. And that was a thought that still scared her more than she had admitted so far. Jack's voice, though it sounded distant, woke her from her worries.

"Why are you biting your lip, darling?"

She blinked at him, "Sorry. W- what?"

The way he looked at her made her feel uneasy. "What's wrong Jack?"

"I'm askin' you what's wrong, Devon. You bit your lip – you're bleeding!" He exclaimed as he tried to wipe away the small trail of blood that dribbled from her bottom lip.

"I - what?" She asked again, her voice shriller that he'd ever heard it.

"You're bleeding." He stated, showing her his now bloody hand.

She looked at his hand, then brought her own hand to her lips and felt the warm fluid on her fingers. She licked her lips and tasted the metallic flavour of her blood.

She couldn't handle it. Despite what they had agreed upon, despite the fact that he was here with her, she couldn't handle becoming a mother.

"I can't do it Jack. I just can't. I'm sorry." She said, stepping backwards a little.

"What can't you do? Leave me? It's alright, luv, you can stay here. I want you here rememb -"

"No! Not that!" She barked, cutting him off. "This!" She stated, pointing towards her protruding stomach. "I can't handle this!" She was breathing raggedly, pacing the floor back and forth while clenching her fists into balls.

He stopped her by her shoulders. "Calm down. Just calm down." He said slowly, trying to make eye-contact with her, his voice laced with concern. "Don't worry! You think too much princess, that's your problem. It'll all be fine."

She pushed his arms away violently. "No! It won't be fine! Don't you see? We're not cut out for this. I'm not cut out for this!"

He sat her down on one of the trunks and squatted down in front of her, placing his hands on her knees, gently stroking them. "Devon? Look at me darling. You're going to do fine. We'll make it work together you and I. As long as we stick together we can accomplish anything. Stop worrying, once the babe is born everything will fall into place…"

Again he was cut off by her scream. "_Once_ this babe is born? Do you have any clue what so ever about childbirth, Sparrow!? Women – perfectly healthy women – DIE in childbirth. Or, if that doesn't happen, the child DIES. My body is a wreck, this baby shouldn't even have been conceived in the first place… Do you have the slightest idea about everything that could go wrong?"

He was shocked, stunned with the fear that lay in her words, shocked with the panic in her eyes and he honestly didn't know what to say.

"Devon I-."

"I'm afraid Jack…" she whispered. "And if the child does make it, and if everything does go well, then I will have to become what I've always dreaded…. I don't know if I can do that, Jack. I don't know if I can handle that."

He pulled her to him, holding her hands together to prevent her from moving, then he kissed her, softly, deeply. She moved, not kissing him back like he had anticipated. When he didn't pull back or stop, she stomped fiercely on his foot in order to make him stop.

"Ouch, bleedin' 'ell, why the Devil did ye do that?!" Jack cursed, hopping on his good foot.

"You're always tryin' ta distract me! Kissing or sex don't solve our problems, Sparrow! Hell kissin' and sex _caused_ our problems!"

"Devon, listen to me." He said slowly as he placed his hands on her tense shoulders. "It's going to be alright, really. You're strong, you're determined - and most importantly you're not alone."

As she looked up at him, the look in her eyes rattled Jack. She was losing it.

"But what if I screw up, what if something goes terribly wrong? I've told you about my injuries haven't I? I-."

"Devon," he cut in. "You're rambling darlin'. We'll deal with problems when they surface – like a proper pirate should. For now, you're going to relax and make the best of the situation. I know this happened for a reason."

She snorted. "Yup, for us to start a little loving family together, skewering hearts, severing bodies, slashing off heads, running for our lives, all cosy and warm together with little baby-buccaneer in here." She said pointing to her stomach. "Well at least I can finally plead my belly should the royal Navy capture me in the near future…"

"Do you _always_ have to be sarcastic?" He snapped.

"Do you _always_ need to have the final word?"

"Do the two of you _always_have to fight?!" Came another voice from behind them. Both pirates turned to find AnaMaria standing before them, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"We don't _always_ fight!" Devon defended, narrowing her eyes even further. She was on the verge of lashing out already and Ana wasn't helping.

Ana merely smiled. "Nay, that's true. You don't, when you don't fight you're morethan friendly ta put things politely. And you're entitled to – no doubt -," the dark skinned woman quipped, eying her Captain carefully... "But know that it's enough ta know ye're at it by the thumping of t' headboard of the bed in yer quarters." She glared at Jack. "It's a complete other thin' when we – and with that I mean the whole crew – have ta find garments o' clothin' scattered about or find… let's say.. puddles wherever ye've _not_ fought with each other."

"You forget your place, Ana!" Jack warned, his left eyelid twitching from pent up anger.

But Devon couldn't help herself. She snorted and soon burst into laughter. She laughed hard and her laughter sounded so genuine. Neither Jack nor AnaMaria had heard her laugh in weeks. Devon chuckled so hard that she had to grab hold of Jack's arm in order to remain on her feet. Jack, watching his pirate girl laugh and hearing the honest and pure sound, soon joined in. Devon hiccupped, holding her hands around her stomach as if she were afraid the baby might fall out due to her laughter. "Jack," she snorted, "you're lea- leaving _puddles_behind!" She hiccupped between breaths as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Jack wiped his own eyes and tried to control his voice when he snapped, "_I'm_ leavin' puddles behind? I do believe she said _we, _luv."

"Well, you're the one squirtin' aren't you?" Devon accused, her eyes still sparkling with new found humour.

"Hmmmm." The Captain raised a brow accusingly at Devon. "Suppose I do "squirt" as you so charmingly name my capacity to fill you with my most affectionate an' passionate juice, then are you telling me you are not _leaking_ your very own bodily fluids after our delightful, sinful and most satisfactory couplings then? Now that would be a blatant lie an' ye know it, princess!"

Ana covered her ears in disgust, shouting, "God! You two are disgraceful!"

Jack beamed at his First Mate, gold teeth glimmering in the lamplight. "We are aren't we, Devon?" AnaMaria wasn't even surprised that her Captain was actually looking _proud_.

Devon had momentarily forgotten how panicked her pregnancy had made her and about how desperate and afraid she had been earlier, not to mention how angry she had been at the sailor who was currently looking at her with those dark, almost onyx eyes. She loved him, no matter how much of a pig he could be. It felt so good to laugh again, wholeheartedly and to feel – if only for once – how she used to feel again. Wild, rambunctious and – most importantly - carefree. She had finally felt her own wicked self again and she hadn't in a long time.

"Oh yes, we are!" She grinned. "Horrible persons. Goin' straight ta the deepest pits o' Hell we are no doubt. If not for our trade, than we're most definitely doomed for our lusts of the flesh." Then she switched her eyes to Ana, who was about to leave. "Thanks Ana, I needed that."

The dark skinned woman smiled. "Disgustin' or not we prefer seein' ye two in compromisin' positions instead of after each other's heads any given day." And with that she left her Captain and best friend alone.

"Feel better?" Jack asked, taking her hand in his, fondling with her fingers.

She nodded, looking up to him. "God, I've needed a good laugh. I've finally felt like me ole self again."

Jack smiled and kissed her softly. "You're still you, pregnant or not. You're still the woman that can drive me up the walls sometimes. You 'aven't changed."

"I've not?"

He shook his dreadlocked head. "Not to me."

She furrowed her brow, tilting her head slightly. "So ye don't think I _have_ changed?"

"Ye're a bit rounder than ye were perhaps, but you're still you. Same sharp tongue, same short temper, same annoying traits…."

She shot him a stern glare. "I annoy you?"

He didn't look away and dared her wrath; "quite frankly? Yes!"

"Sticks 'n stones." She muttered, stretching herself.

He watched her, his eyes taking in every inch of her. How the fabric of her shirt strained ever so slightly around her stomach and chest as she stretched, how elegant her movements were still.

"Wanna make another one o' those puddles?" He asked then. The words had left his mouth as soon as his trousers had become tighter again.

Devon laughed cockily. "Perhaps another time, mon Capitan. I'll go see if Drake wants my head already…"

Jack grinned so mischievously it made Devon's blood boil. He was turned on again, and she was also, but he didn't have to know that now did he?

He took her hand and placed it on his swollen phallus, she could feel the pulsation even through several layers of fabric. "I need ye Devon." He husked into her ear.

Her stomach lurched - how in the world he could make her feel like this would always be a mystery, but she decided not to give in this time. She'd never make it off this ship if she did. Again. Really, how could he go on like this?

"Ye don't need me, Jack. Ye need release. Use yer right hand this time. It's not like ye 'aven't done it before. Make a puddle on yer own." She stated, pulling her hand away – but not before she gently squeezed his manhood for a few moments.

He looked wounded. "I do need you."

When he looked up he was shocked to find that she was actually moving away from him and when he heard her climb the stairs, he simply couldn't help himself - what she suggested was in fact exactly what Captain Jack Sparrow did.

TBC

**

* * *

**

_A/N I'd like to thank the following readers for adding me or this story to their favourites! Thank you guys! **lifetime's lost - Cat Snads - Arabella Drummond - Lilia Jasmine and The Voice of Reason 4 the Lost**. _

_And great big thanks to everyone who reviewed; I promise I'll reply to each review a.s.a.p. _

_If – however- I haven't replied to reviews to the last chapter, please forgive me! Since Bikkel came into our lives I apparently suffer from "puppy-dementia" I can't recall who I have and who I haven't replied to. I'm keeping track now though, so I'll make sure I'll reply to each and every one of you who make the time to share their thoughts!_

_Until next time,_

_Love Angela_

_Posted: 24-01-2009_


	45. No quarter given

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Pirates, just the ones that I've cooked up. No profit is being made from this; sadly.

_Author's note. I know; it's been forever since I've updated this story. I haven't given up on it. You must know that. I missed you guys and this story so when I got a review from KatieGurl09 demanding an update, I started writing again. This chapter was very hard to write, and the next one also, and I am still not pleased with how it turned out, but I think you - faithful readers - deserve an update after so long a wait. If you are still out there, that is… I promise you won't have to wait this long for the next chapter._

_I'd like to thank the following readers for adding me and/or this story to their fav's list since the last update (that was over a year ago)_

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Wow, that's a lot of names! Thank you all again for adding me to your fav's, it really means a lot to me. In case I forgot anyone, please accept my apologies! I've had a computer crash a while back so I've lost a lot of data. That's also part of the reason for the delay…

Now, without further ado, Chapter 45. I hope it will be worth the wait.

And happy holidays to all of you!

**CHAPTER 45**

**No quarter given**

As relaxed and smoothly as the morning had passed, all the more dramatic was the change in weather and circumstances that afternoon. Dark ominous clouds had gathered above and around them and the winds had picked up. The most dramatic though, was the fact that sails had been spotted on the horizon and a surge of anxiety and thirst for action swivelled across the decks of the two pirate ships. It weren't sails of a prospect prey, but the sails of a predator. Crisp white sails of a predator that was after their blood.

Drakes fear had become a reality, when the sails had been identified and Devon was the first one to get that thrown in her face when she stretched herself on deck after taking inventory down below.

"I've told you Sparrow is bad luck! He's brought this on!" Drake shouted pushing his finger in her face. Isaac Drake was angered, although the pirate Captain knew his accusation couldn't be based on anything. The Navy was not solely after the Black Pearl; he didn't try to fool himself. The Hazard was on their priority list also and he figured once word had gotten out that Captain Sparrow of the Black Pearl and Captain Drake of The Hazard had become allies there was all the more reason to look out for both ships.

"That's a load of hogwash Drake and ye know it! It was only a matter of time before we'd run in to them." Devon countered, shoving her Captain's finger away as she took Drake's spyglass from his belt. The look Drake gave her made her hand it back to him, but she handed it over in a casual manner, as if he had handed her the spyglass personally.

The Captain shoved his spyglass back inside the holster on his belt and clenched his teeth, "Well I suppose you're right."

"We'll beat them lobster sissies, we've got two magnificent ships, two very able crews, two experienced Captains….." Devon quipped, counting on her fingers. Drake did not like the look in her eyes one bit. He'd seen that glint may times before and it had always made him smile and feel assured that she'd do whatever it would take to reach their goal, but it did not comfort him this time. Drake was worried, to put things mildly. Did he really need remind her she was with child? He would order her to hide herself if needed - force her to stay put if he had to; he told himself. No doubt the Navy hadn't forgotten the way the devious Devon Duville had escaped the noose in Port Royal, or the way Captain Jack Sparrow had come to her rescue. They had both not only slapped in the King's face - but spat at the man and his whole reign - and made the Royal Navy look like fools. He frowned looking at his first mate and for the first time he regretted that she had come back to them. She should have stayed in Tortuga, Isaac Drake mused; she would have been safer there...

* * *

"Gents, we'll try to outrun them for as long as we can!" Drake bellowed across the deck. When the crewmates started protesting and a few men accused Drake of being a coward, he gave them a stern look that silenced them. Hoggins, being one of the senior crewmembers, however knew what the reason for their Captain's sudden passiveness was; it was Devon. He knew that Isaac Drake would never forgive himself if anything were to happen to his First Mate. Devon wasn't the type to avoid a fight even in her current condition; they all needed to protect her and the little one she was carrying. It was a precarious situation, because their charge did not care much for their protection. In fact she detested it.

"Signal _The Black Pearl_!", Came Drake's order.

"Will do Sir!", Monroe saluted, before he dashed off to the rail to signal Captain Sparrow or whoever was nearest on the ship that sailed besides them.

Drake shook his wigged head again as he watched Devon from his perch on the forecastle of the ship. Sure enough, she was on the helm, taking the wheel. He cursed inwardly. He had promised Jack to keep her safe, to watch out for her so long as she was on _The Hazard_, but he knew there was no way a woman like Devon would hide herself when it came to a fight – let alone _let_ anyone keep her out of harm's way. Not when harm's way, meant a possible fight or an adventure. He knew his first mate far too well for that. And Isaac hoped Jack knew her that well too. A woman like Devon would never change; her zest for adventure and her cockiness were inexorable. The sparkle that had lit her eyes when she'd told him they would be fine was the tell-tale sign that her pregnancy hadn't mellowed her. She was a fighter same as all his men, a true pirate and her fearlessness was to be envied. Even if perhaps it was part charade, she was very convincing an actress.

"We'll never be able to control her, Captain." Came a voice from behind him. "I am truly afraid we might have to lock her in if the worst should happen..."

Drake looked over his shoulder, stared at Martin Cooper's face and sighed. "If the worst comes to the worst, we might need her, Mr. Cooper. But I don't want to put her in harm's way…"

The older man shook his greyed head "I'm afraid you won't have a choice, she will certainly not stay put willingly..."

The Captain rubbed his temples and sighed: "I know Martin, believe me I know…."

* * *

"Oh bugger!" Jack swore when he saw clouds gather closer together above them then when he called Ana up in the crow's-nest and she signed him with her hands. "I just bloody knew things were going too smoothly!" he grumbled. They were sailing between Navy and storm, between the proverbial rock and the hard place and neither of them was where Jack desired to be close to. What he did want to be close to was his bed and the woman currently steering the ship besides them. No such luck though.

On the ship on their starboard side black manes shook fervently as heavy raindrops splattered down on them, triggering the unruly hair to curl. "Damn, jus' what we needed, a nice little storm..." In weather like this she realised Jack's hat – or any hat for that matter– could come in handy. Tresses of her hair clung to her face and she whished she could push them out of her eyes.

Isaac Drake had instructed his female – and very pregnant – First Mate, to remain in her quarters, or his for that matter, but she would have nothing of it. She had been assigned the helm-shift and she was taking it. Neither storm nor pursuing Navy could keep her from it. Her Captain had caved, knowing Devon's persistence, but also knowing his ship – and crew - was in good hands.

She held on to the wheel as she looked over her shoulder; smiling. _The Pearl_ was coming up alongside.

"Ye think ye can 'old 'er?" Hoggins shouted from below her.

" Poseidon's daughter remember!." She shouted back, grinning widely so the gem in her tooth sparkled. Her eyes glistened and she grabbed the pegs even tighter.

Jack looked at The Hazard and spotted Devon behind the wheel. The wind was tugging at her black locks she looked so in her place; she belonged there. He mused this for a few moments as the wind picked up even more and the trinkets in his hair whipped around his face.

* * *

The Hazard gained more and more speed after Jameson, Monroe and a few more easy climbing mates had adjusted the sails as Devon had instructed.

Devon knew the Navy most likely wouldn't pursue them in a fierce storm like this one, or at least that was what she hoped. So best they could do is outrun them for as long they could and if Jack would follow her example they could shake them off. So long as the wind was in their favour anyways…

"Duville! Are you trying to get us killed?" She heard Isaac Drake's roaring voice from her left.

"Nay Sir, I'm tryin' the opposite quite frankly.', she quipped. "If ye'd rather 'ave me weigh anchor 'n drop canvas so's them lobsters can turn yer lovely ship inta smithereens, jus' say the word.."

Drake braced himself against the rail of the helm as a huge wave swept upon deck, shaking his head when she looked at him, demanding an answer. "Everybody secured?" Devon roared as she lashed herself to the helm.

She could make out several "Ayes" around her as she navigated trough the massive blue surrounding them.

"Devon, we really should lower canvas!" Drake shouted, grabbing hold of the rail tighter.

Devon grinned wickedly, deciding not to hear her Captain. She loved the power of the storm and felt completely at ease behind the wheel.

* * *

"Capt'n ye deem it wise to follow her? Why doesn't Captain Drake take over?" Gibbs shouted, getting more and more worried, since they were gaining more and more speed and the masts cracked portentously at the force of the wind.

"We trust 'er," Jack retorted flatly, his eyes never losing track of the sails in front of them. "Besides we don't really have an option, it's either followin' 'er or go inta battle with the King's Navy. Now for as long as we can avoid the Navy capturing the mother of me offspring, we'll try 'n loose them, savvy?" He said cursing himself over and over for bringing her back from Tortuga. "Brace yerselves Gents, this'll be a rough one!"

"Aye." Gibbs muttered, looking across to the other ship where Devon was busy crashing The Hazard into a wall of water.

"She's bound at kill 'em all!" Gibbs muttered, but secretly he really did admire her. For a woman she was a fair enough sailor, and she really did have the balls to go with it.

* * *

Another firm tug of the wind, made the sails crack ominously and Devon roared "DROP CANVAS NOW!"

Part of her wanted to benefit longer from the strong winds, but she knew that would jeopardize lives. Not only their own, but her little one's as well, she thought as she watched several mates nimbly climb the mast and rigging to lower the sails immediately. Her heart swelled with pride when she saw her crewmates fight the elements to drop the sails.

"Yer doin' good boys!" she bellowed. "Signal the Eye, I want location of that Navy ship!"

"Aye!"

Devon felt the ship rock on the waves of the tropical storm and when she glanced over her shoulder she spotted the dark ship at portside. It was barely visible due to the hard rain and the winds, but it was there sure enough.

Knowing Jack was right here by her side, sailing on his ship reassured her. Whatever may come, however dark the situation she knew she could best it together with him. Of course she had tremendous faith in Drake, Drake's ship and her crewmates, but her heart was with Jack on that other ship and she needed that reassurance to keep going.

* * *

Marty gave Jack the location of the Navy vessel and to his shock it was still pursuing. Part of him thought they'd given up in the storm, trying to save their precious ship, but they hadn't.

In fact, there were now not one but two Vessels nearby, both flying his Majesties colours. He cursed, knowing a battle couldn't be avoided anymore.

He bit his lip scolding himself for taking Devon back with him. She should have stayed in Tortuga. She'd have been safe in Tortuga…

* * *

When the first cannons fired - and it weren't The Pearls' or the Hazards - Devon bellowed for someone to take over, since her hands tinged to get to work. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her - and that wasn't as fast a she'd like to admit - down the stairs into the armoury and shouted out orders. Her mind and heart were racing with adrenaline.

"Aim just above the waterline and on the masts, we want them down to meet Davy Jones as soon as bleedin'possible. FIRE!" She shouted and all cannons answered in suit.

There was no time to think of the Pearl, there was no time to think of Jack, Devon's mind was filled with tactics, strategies and instructions. She bellowed out her orders and hoped she had trained her men well. DaCosta worked harder than she'd ever seen him work and for a few proud moments his teacher was stunned with how much of her teaching had actually come across. Then she ordered the men to reload and fire and she inspected the angle of the barrel closest to her before ordering to reload again. The ship rocked and a blow made her fall backwards, into Jenkins's arms. She stood upright within moments, pushing herself away from the man's chest, as she scanned the hold for damages.

"McKee! We're going to make water, fetch the carpenter, assemble two men and try to patch her up as best as you can, I've got a feeling this won't be over soon!" Then her head snapped to her left "DaCosta, you're in charge here! I'm goin' up. - Reload!"

She examined her crew and managed to bellow another "FIRE!", before she climbed the stairs.

* * *

There was an absolute mayhem on deck. A mixture of blacks greys and an unnerving amount of reds danced on deck. But it wasn't a friendly waltz though, this was battle. And one of the most fierce battles she'd witnessed in years. This wasn't just a nice raid, this was serious. Her eyes searched the decks for Jack and when she found him on her left hand side, clearly searching for something or rather someone. Her hand reached for her gun, but her fingers found an empty baldric. _Where is my flint?, she cursed_. Quickly her hands grabbed the other side, but she knew her sword would be useless.

The self-centred piratess forgot all selfishness and forgot about her baby, when she saw the gun pointed at Jack, who was too distracted at the moment to notice he was about to be shot. Devon jumped from the rail on poopdeck and shoved Jack out of the range of the gun. Almost simultaneously a shot was fired.

The sound of the gunshot reverberated across deck and then for a few moments the ship was bathed in complete eerie silence.

The bullet pierced the skin of Devon's side, ripping apart the flesh and drilling its way into the various layers of tissue. Blood oozed from the wound in Devon's side and Jack looked at her in shock. One flash moment, their eyes met and his concern met her reassurance. Although her reassurance wasn't quite convincing. That shot should have killed him; Jack realised that instantly. The bullet Devon had caught in her side; was meant to send him to an early grave at sea. Not even a trial or the gallows this time, the Navy was serious. The wanted to get them, and dead would be just as fine as alive…

It was only in that moment, Devon realised she had put her child in jeopardy. Her life was constantly on the line, but her child, Jack's child…. It hurt breathing and she could feel the wound was big. Her vision became blurry and she tried to ignore the hellish pain that surged in her torso. Her instincts took over and Devon rolled way from the scène as fast as she could, and Jack quickly fired a shot. It hit target on the officer's pistol. Devon reached inside her vest, looking for her throwing stars, but to no avail, they weren't there. They were in the leather vest that didn't fit her anymore. She cursed herself for letting herself get this fat and tried to get back on her feet. She was no help to Jack or her crew now.

* * *

Devon had saved him; taken his bullet. From the corner of his eye, he saw her struggling to get up, a trail of blood smeared out across the deck and his instincts were torn between aiding her and keeping himself alive. _She'll live, Jack, keep believing that. Now Fight! _But he couldn't stop worrying. _She was hurt…. _And then realisation hit the Pirate Captain like a slap in the face_… their babe… their babe and its mother had been in danger in order to save his life. _

He parried and dodged and thrust and blocked several thrusts to get close to her, to help her get back on her feet and out of harms way. He had to use his sword, since there was no time to reload his gun. Another hard thrust and his current opponent was down. Just a few more feet and he'd be at her side.

When he saw her pulling herself up by the rail from the corner of his eye, he decided getting himself killed would do neither of them any good, so he attacked, dodged and fought the best he could, blocking everyone who got close to Devon with a rage and bloodlust that would chill him to the bone if he had the time to think about it. He fought and gave no quarter. It took only a few seconds before the Hazard's and Pearl's crews joined in, but to Jack it seemed like centuries had passed since Devon had been shot.

* * *

"Foolish girl!" Martin Cooper scoffed, when he saw Devon drag herself away from the scene. His heart leapt in his throat when he saw the blood. So much blood. Devon was pale, a thin sheen of sweat covered her brow, but still she wouldn't let him support her.

"Help them! Cooper help them fight!" Devon urged grinding her teeth in pain, trying to steady her hands enough, so she would be able to yank Cooper's flintlock from out of his hands.

"They'll manage… you on the other hand are in need of my attention." he said gravely, shaking his head after seeing her blood drenched blouse.

Devon's lips trembled. She had acted without thinking; impulsively she'd jumped in front of Jack in order to save him, but by doing that she had put their child's life in grave danger...

Cooper grabbed hold of her upper arm and led her inside of Drake's quarters forcefully. "Do not move an inch!" he hissed, "I'll be back shortly."

Devon nodded and concentrated on pressing down on her wound, all that was usable and close enough to reach was one of Drake's shirts. She tried to look at the mayhem on deck but when she moved her torso a little to the right; her vision became blurry as the white hot pain surged through her. Warm blood trailed down her fingers, quickly staining the shirt she was pressing down on her wound. Part of her brain registered the bleakness of the situation she found herself in, the blood was drenching the shirt too quickly; the wound was perhaps bigger than she had anticipated. She tried to remember what kind of gun that redcoat had used to discern the damage of the bullet, but she couldn't focus her mind enough due to the pain . A shot was fired and went straight through the wall of the cabin, whizzing mere inches away from Devon's ear. Instinctively, she reached for her gun but the sudden movement made her nauseous and nearly made her scream out in pain as it raged through her even more forcefully. She got light-headed looking at her bloodied hand, her body quivered as another surge of pain flashed through her.

Martin Cooper came back with his bag and looked at her "Did you move?"

She shook her head as she bit her lips to conceal her pain from the ship's physician. The old man wasn't fooled though; he saw blood dripping down her bottom lip. He handed her a piece of thick rope "Here, love, bite down really hard, it will help you deal with the pain." Devon wanted to lash out at him, telling him that she could handle the pain just as well as any other sailor, but took the piece of rope instead, she was starting to feel dizzy and the pain was almost unbearable.

"We'll just pray that the babe's safe." Martin Cooper stammered, mostly to himself as he took a gin bottle out of the Captain's liquor cabinet. When he was almost near Devon another shot whizzed through the cabin and in shock Cooper dropped the bottle he was holding. Moments later, Jack Sparrow came through the door and barricaded it from the inside. Devon was about to curse him for being a coward, but swallowed down her words as she saw him open the bay windows and climb out of them. He didn't even look at her! That fact was perhaps even more painful than the bullet embedded in her flesh.

* * *

He had seen her, from the corner of his eyes. He had seen the pain twisting her sheet pale face, her teeth biting in the piece of rope she had in her mouth and he had seen the blood and the blood drenched rag or whatever it was that lay on the floor. So much blood… He shook his head firmly as he climbed upwards. Thinking about all he could loose wasn't going to save either of them. Or the babe…. The babe… he had fathered a child and perhaps he wouldn't even get to see it. When he swung over the rail, there was only one thing on his mind, ending this fight.

Jack Sparrow wasn't one to kill out of bloodlust, but the anger that currently overtook every fibre of his body, made him buzz with red hot and cold blooded rage. His heart pounded and he could hear his blood pulsate through his veins. If Devon died because of the bullet that had had his name on it, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. When he saw a red uniform on his right, he held his sword firmly between his hands and plunged it forward, putting his whole weight into the tip of his sword. The silver blade sliced trough fabric, flesh and intestines and when Jack was certain it he had pushed it through to the other side, the hilt pushing on the golden buttons of his opponents vest, he laughed maliciously. Satisfied he withdrew his blade from the lifeless form and let it fall heavily back on the deck.

From behind him Joshamee Gibbs watched Jack while he himself fought off and attacker. He had never seen Jack this way. There was pure hatred oozing out of his Captain's every pore and it gave Gibbs the shivers. He wondered what could cause Jack's bloodlust. This wasn't just a fight to end the fight. Somehow it seemed that Jack Sparrow was determined to personally slaughter every redcoat that came in sight.

* * *

Pearls of sweat formed from Martin Cooper's brow, he had enough on his hands with Steven's who still occupied the sickbay and now there was Devon. The only woman aboard the ship and his heart bled for her. He cared for her, although she was impossible at times. He wished and prayed she'd pull trough, but he knew the odds were bleak. He had been able to clean the wound using whatever strong liquor he could find, but he couldn't take the bullet out. Not by himself and with all that was going on on deck, he didn't know if there'd be anyone left to help him save Devon.

There was a loud thunder outside and the whole ship shuddered beneath him. Bottles rattled on the shelves and glasses shattered onto the floor. Devon tried to get up despite her agony, her right hand clutching the hilt of her sword as hard as he could.

Martin Cooper pushed her back down "Let it be, Devon. You are in no condition to fight battles now. Lie still and try to keep yourself together. Breathe calmly, I'll go and find help. Press down on this." Martin said, taking her hand away from the cutlass and pressing it down on a fresh cloth he'd placed on the wound.

She tried to keep her breathing regular, tried to focus on keeping herself and her baby alive, but when she heard a presence in the room a while later, if it were seconds or minutes or hours, she didn't know, but when she heard someone enter the room again, it wasn't Martin Cooper, or Jack…

She didn't even struggle or fight when four arms dragged her off the table and across the deck.

To be continued…

Posted 21-12-2010

P.S. Please leave a review, if only to let me know you're still out there :)

17-01-2011: I've posted this chapter 45 several times before but it keeps disappearing. I hope it stays posted this time! Sorry for the inconvenience.


	46. Lament

Disclaimer: No profit is being made by me, everything you recognise from the movies, belongs to the mouse, everything else belongs to me

_I'd like to thank the following readers for adding me and/or this story to their fav's list since the last update :_

**_Happyme2 (BleedinLuva1123) - Dragon Queen001 – Veira - shark-demon-luv – FatHo - yriz3 - entwined370 – _**

**_butterflysmile – leckie - Lizzie-Lizzard –__Xenia007 – alibella – PosessedPen - awake untill day brake –_**

**_Jazzy Kiral - Darkening Light 666 - Our Lady Silence – __Krbr _**

_And to everyone who took the time to leave their thoughts: I love you! You make this all worth while! Thank you so very very much!_

**A/N First of all, I have to apologise for the delay in updating. It's not that I didn't want to write, I simply didn't find the time. My joints and muscle's are having a hard time obeying me so there were times I just didn't go near the computer at all. But alas, I've managed to pick up where I left off… Now, without further delay I give you the next instalment of this tale…**

**la·ment** (le-ment) _v._ **la·ment·ed**, **la·ment·ing**, **la·ments** _._

**1. **To express grief for or about; mourn: _lament a death._

**2. **To regret deeply; deplore: _He lamented his thoughtless acts._

_._

**1. **To grieve audibly; wail.

**2. **To express sorrow or regret. See Synonyms at grieve.

_n._

**1. **A feeling or an expression of grief; a lamentation.

**2. **A song or poem expressing deep grief or mourning.

* * *

_And just as my eyes start seeing_

_After all the pain_

_The twist in my life starts healing_

_Only to twist again_

_In stillness, in sorrow_

_Returns that softly sighing lament_

_Lament_

_And just as the smile's returning_

_After all the pain_

_The fire inside stops burning_

_Just to burn again_

_Ultravox - Lament_

**Chapter 46**

**- Lament -**

-Hours later -

"Just let her die, the world will be better off without her. I don't know why we had to take her in the first place!" Mortimer Hamilton, Ensign of the H.M.S. Victory, spoke callously, looking down at the woman on the table in disgust.

The man opposite from him, Doctor Jeremiah Stowe, did not respond to the harsh spoken words, he just demanded that the other man hold the woman down so that he could take the bullet out of his patient's flesh.

"She was meant to die, why do you even bother, Stowe?" Hamilton asked again, displeased with being ignored.

Stowe silently continued with his work, never even looking up to his conversation partner or acknowledging the other man's presence. His slender hands working determinedly and nimbly, with a skill that comes with years and years of practice.

The heavy door behind them opened and closed and as the physician's hands worked to close the woman up the other man's head turned in the direction of the door.

"How's she faring, Mr. Stowe?," Sir Thomas Lant asked flatly, examining his carefully manicured fingernails as he stepped away from the door into their direction. Stowe spoke slowly as he took the white-hot iron poker out of the fireplace. Nodding to the others to help him hold her down, he cauterized the wound by souring it. The woman on the table screamed in agony, and it took a lot of strength from all the men to keep her steady on the table, but Jeremiah Stowe thought it was a good sign she indeed felt the pain. Not because she deserved to feel the pain, tough. Nay, because it meant there was still a chance – however bleak it may be – that this woman would live through this. He proceeded to drench towels into water and placed them on the damaged skin, looking pleased with the fact he had closed up the wound nicely. Lant and Hamilton fanned themselves in order to fan the foul smell of burned flesh away, but to no avail. The whole room reeked of it.

Thomas Lant shuddered in disgust and quickly washed his hands over and over to rid himself of the smell and the filth he now had on him. God knows what kind of diseases, that harlot was carrying. When he dried his hands on the towel, Jeremiah Stowe spoke:

"She's lost a lot of blood and she lost her baby. I'll do everything in my power to aid her, but I don't know if she'll pull through, Sir."

The other man shook his head "Why do we even bother, she's a whore and an outlaw, why not let her die?"

Sir Lant took a few moments to figure out how to phrase the orders he had been given. A difficult task, since he did not even understand them fully himself.

"She wasn't the one who was supposed to die, Mr. Hamilton. She's of more use to us alive than dead. Miss Duville is linked to a treasure that is rightfully the Crown's, besides that we can use her as leverage."

"How's that? I don't peg anyone will pay ransom for her." Hamilton sneered.

Lant nodded offhandedly. 'Rumours say she and Jack Sparrow are lovers and that it is in fact his child she carries. This, allegedly, has been confirmed in several ports. " Thomas Lant, after repeating the orders that had been given to him, pondered what his superiors were holding back; surely they wouldn't go through all this trouble just to capture Jack Sparrow's strumpet. Especially if she was with child, from what he had learned, Jack Sparrow would most certainly not stick around when one of his whores claimed to carry his child.

"Carried", Stowe spoke gravely, shaking Lant out of his reverie. "Past thence, she has lost the child, Sir. We had to perform surgery to remove the foetus." He nodded his wigged head in the direction of a bundle of blood stained sheets on a counter nearby. "If the wound does not infect she will have a very grim chance of survival. I am very worried about her condition. If the wound does infect of if her fever does not-"

"Did she miscarry?" Thomas Lant interjected coldly, looking at the various tattoos and scars that mutilated the skin of the woman that lay on the table before them. "Thank God for that, she will not be able to plead her belly and we'll have one less bastard to worry about …," Lant stated icily

Jeremiah Stowe, shook his head and placed cold wet cloths on the woman's forehead and gently wiped a stray strand of hair from her brow. "We've tried to keep the babe, but I think she'd already lost it before she was brought over. I am surprise she even got pregnant in the first place, from what I have seen; she has been through a lot, if you would only look at this scar-"

Thomas Lant rubbed his chin, cutting the physician rudely off once again: "One can only hope she's worth something without the child. If not we-"

Stowe interrupted him harshly "Sir Lant! Pirate or not she is still a _woman_, and a woman in dire need of help. She deserves to be treated with respect and so long as she's under my care that is _exactly_ what she will get, do I make myself clear?"

Lant, who was much higher in rank than the physician, simply nodded. Those were the orders he had gotten from his superiors as well, not that he agreed with them. He did not know why, but all they had been after had been his thieving, stealing whore. They could have ended the pirate threat, captured both Captains and then taken back the map, but his superiors had ordered that they were to start the fight and take her. He haughtily looked her semi naked body over once more; once again disgusted with the inks and wounds he saw. "Cover her up," he ordered haughtily. "Don't want her spreading God knows what on our fine ship!"

* * *

The turmoil was over. Drake had ordered a few of his crew members to throw the bodies overboard. It was strange. They were having the upper hand in the fight, but the battle had been far from over when the Navy redcoats retreated. The remaining officers had jumped back to their ships and that had been it. Now – after inventory had been taken of their losses – and the adrenaline rush had died down, they realised exactly _why_ the battle had ended so abruptly.

They had taken Devon. Jack didn't know yet. Captain Sparrow had been wounded along with other members of the Hazard's and the Pearl's crewmembers, Drake was worried with what he had seen on deck. He didn't know however, that most of the blood he had seen on Jack Sparrow, wasn't that of his friend. He had sent Cooper over to the Pearl, to tend to Jack's wounds while The Pearl's "Stitch" and both the cooks were tending to the wounds of the other victims.

Isaac Drake was at a loss. His ship was damaged, his crew lost valuable members, his ally was seriously wounded and his First Mate had been abducted. This treasure simply wasn't worth all this. All the bloody gold in the Spanish Main wasn't worth all this.

* * *

Cooper's hands trembled as he closed the wound on Jack's arm. AnaMaria bandaged it carefully.

"Captain Sparrow will not be able to use his arm for quite some time, he'll need to take rest and slowly start moving it."

"Capt'n Sparrow can hear ye loud 'n clear, doc" Jack hissed, eager to get up.

"Stay put, Capt'n.", Ana ordered, pushing him back onto his bed. "Listen to the good doctor, Jack."

The Captain gritted his teeth and looked questioningly at Mr. Cooper.

"It's best if you rest now, Captain. Not use your arm for a while".

Jack nodded. "Ah, yes, that's all fine and dandy; I shall do that when I find the time to spare and if you promise to take me to Devon now."

The doctor looked from Jack's eyes into AnaMaria's and when she raised her brows, he looked back at Captain Sparrow. "Firstly, I think it would be best you talk to Captain Drake.", Cooper said, turning his head towards the door when he heard knocking.

When the doors opened Joshamee Gibbs was standing before them with a grim look upon his face. "Jack, a word, please?"

Jack gestured towards the chair with his good hand and nodded his head towards the door looking at Ana. Ana, knowing Jack wanted her to leave, walked to the door only to close it. When Jack tried to protest, she pulled Gibbs aside, whispering into his ear that whatever he needed to tell Jack, it could wait.

"No, it can't! I need orders, do we pursue or not?" Joshamee demanded, looking at his 'Captain.

"Orders, can wait, Gibbs! Jack needs to rest now", Ana spoke, ushering Gibbs towards the door again.

Jack looked back an forth between the three pirates that stood before them "What is it you're not tellin' me!", he demanded pushing himself up from his bed.

"Did she..", he couldn't bring himself to verbalise his thoughts.

"No-no!", Martin Cooper said, "at least not that we know…"

Jack swore, pushed the Hazard's physician aside and barked orders to his men.

* * *

Minutes later Jack, along with the others, found themselves in Drake's room. All eyes were resting upon the table where Devon had been earlier. Before…

Joshamee Gibbs was horrified with all the blood there was. "Mothers' love", Joshamee muttered rubbing his whiskered cheeks. His old heart bled for the lass and their little one...

"Do you know _why_ they haven taken her? Any idea at all?" Jack asked Drake, tearing his dark eyes away from the table. Flashes of the battle came back to him, Devon getting shot, how she pushed herself up from the deck… all that blood… how she lay on the table… the blood drenched rags he had seen…. Her face… Jack shook his head, trying to stay focussed and not get lost in thoughts about her… about *them*.

"No, no more than you." He answered flatly, his hands touching the parchment of the dual charted map; the map that was still in its place. "I would understand if they'd taken back the map, or if they had taken either of us," he said looking at Sparrow. "That would have made at least some sense, but I cannot say why they've taken Duville… in her state…."

Ana looked at her Captain and saw how his jaw set and how he touched the tress of dark hair– Devon's no doubt - that was tied around his wrist while he stared at the blood stained table. "What is it they're after… what the *_Hell* _is it?" Jack muttered. Drake shook his unkempt head, the distinguished wig no longer atop it, since he had lost it in the mayhem on deck somewhere hours earlier. Years earlier it seemed.

AnaMaria stepped forward, looking carefully into Jack's dark eyes as she said, "Maybe they know."

Both Isaac and Jack stared at the small dark woman "'Ow's that, Ana? Know what?" Jack urged, narrowing his eyes to slits.

"Her heritage, Jack."

T.B.C.

Posted: 17-05-2011


	47. Without a title

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A/N Hello lovelies, I apologize for the enormous delay. I've had serious hand-troubles again and was banned from the computer for a few months.

But this chapter has been finished a few weeks ago, but I didn't post it. If I give you guys the reason for this delay, you will probably flog me. The reason is, that I can't think of a good title for this chapter.

If any of you have suggestions, please leave a review. If I find it suitable also I will use it and rename this chapter accordingly. Now without further ado, I present the next instalment of Jack and Devon's tale:

**Chapter 47**

**-Without a title-**

_I thought I saw your eyes,_  
_Laced in smoke & cigarette curls._  
_I thought I saw your eyes_  
_But I'm seeing ghosts tonight._

_She haunts me!_  
_'til my bitter end._  
_She haunts me!_

_I swear I heard your voice, overwhelmed by conversation._  
_I swear I heard your voice but I'm hearing ghosts tonight!_  
_The bars turn out there lights._  
_And I drink away the day as it decays._

_So much for living forever,_  
_So much for death do us part_

_She haunts me!_  
_She haunts me!_  
_She haunts me!_  
_Every fucking..._  
_NIGHT!_

_Liquor and love lost – Bring me that horizon_

"Her heritage, Jack"

"You know of that?" Jack asks in slight bewilderment. Perhaps it was him being naïve, but he had always thought that out of all the people in Devon's life; he was the one who knew her best.

Ana Maria nods "I see you do too, Captain."

Drake's eyes shift from Jack to Ana Maria and finally verbalises his thoughts "What heritage?"

Ana Maria clears her throat "Captain, Drake, I've known Devon from when we was little. Or, I should say from when I was little, since she's a few years my senior. We lived near each other in Port au Prince. I knew her late mother." Ana says, looking at Jack "And I've known her late father." Jack nods, Devon had told him this.

Isaac Drake was loosing his patience, what did it matter if Jack's First Mate had known *his* First Mate's parents. What did this have to do with Devon's fate and what did it have to do with why she was taken?

Jack, seeing Drake's anxiety, speaks up "Devon's father, Isaac, is none other than the late Captain Duncan Black."

Drake's jaw drops at this. "This can't be! Devon's told me she's French. Her name's Duville… surely you must be mistaken."

"She's only half French; on her mothers' side. If the Royal Navy knows this… there's no telling of her fate." Jack says, touching the tress of Devon's hair that is still tied around his wrist.

Isaac shook his head, "Duncan Black had a son! I distinctly remember this, all tales that were told specifically mentioned a son."

"Aye," Ana Maria says, "But what was that son's name, eh?"

"It is….. Devon!" Drake exclaims almost surprised as the pieces of the puzzle finally fall into place.

Joshamee Gibbs took out his canister and takes a swig of rum "Sure explains a lot." Jack glared at his quartermaster, "How so?"

"Well, you know, the way she walks, the foul mouth…"

Isaac Drake saw Devon in his mind's eye, her remarkable aim, her sword dexterity…had he not often questioned her skills? How every task she had to fulfil came almost natural to her? He had indeed and so had others. And now he knew exactly why his only female crewmember had earned her keep aboard his ship. She was a full blood pirate.

"Then why hasn't she told me?" Drake asks, somewhat agitated by the fact that both Jack and Ana knew more than he did while she had sailed with him for so many years. "She could've sailed any pirate ship of her choosing if she had used the name Black."

Jack nods proudly "Respect her even more now that you know, eh?"

Isaac Drake bites his lip. All this time he had thought he knew his first mate like the back of his hand, that he had known even more than she was willing to show, but now he knew that he would never know all there was to Devon Duville. She was the daughter of the infamous Captain Duncan Black of the Dark Devotion. He rubs his chin and looks into Jack Sparrows eyes. He sees unveiled pride in his friend's dark brown eyes, pride and longing. Isaac Drake has always respected and admired the only woman aboard his ship, but now… he respects her even more indeed.

* * *

Doctor Jeremiah Stowe had been seeing the woman again, his patient. He had tended to her wounds, gently rubbed ointments on the scars, so they would heal nicely. When he had bandaged her pelvis, dressing the wound had made to remove her stillborn from her womb, Jeremiah Stowe felt truly and deeply sorry for the poor woman that was currently his charge.

Whatever his superiors had planned for her, he was certain it wasn't worse than what she had been through in her life before she had come under his care. The various scars, bullet wounds and the scar tissue he had seen on her skin had proved she had led a hard life. But her face, whenever it relaxed for a moment was so chaste that it almost was beautiful to watch her sleep. But the moments of serenity were few; mostly her face was wrinkled in pain, before he brought a cotton ball drenched in laudanum to her lips, in order to subdue her pain. Sometimes, it seemed he would never have enough laudanum to ever control her pain.

She did not scream, but he had to bind her to the bed to prevent her from hurting herself. Even after all this, she was strong. The pirate was stronger even, than any woman would be in her state. She was stronger than him and stronger than most men upon the H.M.S. Victory of that he was certain. With her arms muscular and lean, and her broad shoulders, she seemed built for hard labour. Doctor Stowe was glad her fever had dropped, but he was worried for her fate still. If she lived, if she were able to keep fighting, if her body were to gain more strength and if she stayed alive, then what would become of her? He had seen the various tattoos on her skin. He had seen the flag on her back. He knew why his superiors wanted her, but he would not mention these findings to anyone. He knew he was only trying to heal her so she would live to see the day she would hang from the gallows. Sometimes the line between right and wrong was not so clear.

* * *

"I will not stand idly by when the love of my life is taken from me." Jack says, as he checks his pistol for powder and shot for probably the hundredth time that night. "We will pursue, even if it is to the ends of the earth. Mark my words I will find her!" his breathing sounds erratic and he knows better than to let himself get gripped by panic but he can't help himself.

"Jack, we don't know if they are aware of her heritage." Drake says, as he studies the maps before him.

"Then pray tell why did they take her?" Jack growls. Drake bites his lip, shrugging his shoulders. "I wish I knew, mate. I wish I knew".

Jack Sparrow finds himself stressed. Stressed! He never in his life has once worried, but when Devon was concerned his nerves are out of control. Nothing in his line of work is certain, but he knows one thing for sure, Devon is the one meant for him and she is carrying the fruit of his loins in her womb. Loosing her, loosing them is simply more than he can handle.

It had been weeks and he hasn't slept. She is always on his mind. Haunting him constantly. Tobacco and the bottle have proven to be a good friend indeed, but when his eyes finally flutter shut, the liquor he had deemed a friend proves to be a foe. Images of Devon alive and dead haunt his dreams, leaving him trembling and covered in sweat when he awakes. He knows he needs to take action, he knows Drake knows that too, but he feels so tired, so fearful about the fate of the woman he loves and their unborn child. When a warm hand touches his shoulder and gently squeezes it, he realises he's crying.

* * *

"What if she doesn't make it," Mortimer Hamilton questions the room. "What use will she have for us dead?"

"I thought you _wanted_ her dead, Mr. Hamilton.", sneers Doctor Jeremiah Stowe, whose icy glare met Hamilton's unsympathetic features.

Hamilton did not retaliate, but he looked around, his cold eyes meeting the eyes of the others in the room with them, his gaze landing on Thomas Lant.

"Gentlemen, we have captured one of the most notorious pirates to sail the seas. She is a hardened criminal, let's not be forgetting that. She has been caught before, but managed to escape. Twice. She has a long list of crimes; she is a very conniving woman. The last time she escaped Port Royals prison, she has had help, help from the man who is claimed to be her lover; Captain Jack Sparrow."

"So it's Sparrow that we want, then?" Hamilton asks.

"Yes. And no." is the answer. Thomas Lant rereads the letter he holds in his hands once more. He wagers what information he wants to share at this point and decides to address the doctor. "Mister Stowe, I want you to do your utmost to save the woman. If she dies, her secrets die with her."

The room started filling with mumbles, whispers and then Mortimer Hamilton stands "What secrets?" he demands.

"That is what we need to find out, Mister Hamilton." Lant says, folding the letter and stuffing it inside his vests pocket. "Meeting adjourned. Mister Stowe, I want full reports on the woman's' condition every noon." He addressed all the men at the table "Men, I want you all to return to your stations. We will meet again coming Thursday." Then he rises from his seat and leaves the room.

* * *

Weeks have passed, the H.M.S. Victory has been docked in London harbour, men at the docks are loading her up with supplies and Doctor Stowe is on his way to visit his patient in London's SaintBartholomew's Hospital.

As he climbs the stairs to the ward where the piratess is treated, he cannot help but suppress a small smile to form on his thin lips in anticipation of seeing her again. Somehow he has grown fond of the infamous lady pirate. He enjoys the fact that she had recovered quicker than he had deemed possible and that she had shown herself grateful for his help. She is a lot smarter than his superiors and ship mates gave her credit for and she had proven to be quite enjoyable company as well. The one thing he finds rather strange, or odd about her, is that she has never even once asked about her baby. And truth be told, Jeremiah Stowe doesn't have the heart to bring it up either. As she sleeps, in her dreams, he can tell she is haunted by both emotional and physical pain, but she never speaks of or asked about her loss or the amount of pain she is in. Never.

Jeremiah Stowe stops the nurse that walks past him as she comes out of the guarded door a bit further down the hall. "Nurse Paget, please tell me. How is my patient fairing today?"

* * *

"I am sure they took her to England." Jack says, rumminging though his charts, searching for the correct map. Everything is a mess now that Devon is gone, he thinks. When he lifts several charts up he spots a stocking of hers. Memories fill his mind with images of how she had discarded this very stocking. It had been part of a sultry dance of hers where she had carefully removed her clothing item by item one of their many nights together. He vividly remembers every scar and every tattoo that marks her skin. Her silvery laughter that _always_ ignites his own. The sparkle in the blue of her eyes. Those beautiful eyes. The feeling of loss almost suffocates him. He touches the fabric, caresses it with his rough digits. He feels his throat close and he swallows. Drake's words shake him from his reverie. "What makes you say that, Jack?"

"Will Turner overheard a conversation Gillette and Norrington were having," the Captain of the Black Pearl answers, tucking the stocking in his vest pocket. As he studies his friends face, he snaps back into reality. "Elisabeth, the misses Turner, wife of the aforementioned," Jack points out with a flick of his wrist. "wrote me a letter. Lizzie wrote she suspects they have taken her London." Jack states, "The orders supposedly came from King George himself."

Isaac Drake rubs his whiskered chin. "That can't be good. Did Turner hear about Devon's condition?"

"Nay," Jack answers, never taking his eyes away from the map in front of him "but Elisabeth wagers that if Devon has d…." Jack can't bring himself to say it, but Drake nods his wigged head "They would have taken her body to Port Royal. We have to remain positive old mate, Devon is a strong girl. She won't give up so we can't either." He does his best to sound convincing, but when his eyes locked with Jacks' he knows that the pain he sees in Sparrow's dark brown eyes reflects his own.

Jack toys with the tress of hair around his wrist. "If only you'd give me a sign, Vonnie… so I know ye and the little one are doing alright…" he thinks, caressing his braided black "bracelet" tenderly. An action, although thoughtless and casually, is not lost on the eyes of the Captain of The Hazard. "We'll get them back, Jack. One way or the other, we'll get them back."

Sunrise next morning two pirate ships, set sail together.

* * *

She lies upon the bed, her face pale as a ghost; strands of dark damp hair cling to her face. Doctor Stowe hears her voice as she fights against the binds that tie her to the bed. Her voice is little over a whisper, frail, but despite the facts that the word is barely audible, Jeremiah Stowe hears her say that name again, that name that she has said in her haunted dreams many times before "Jack".

He approaches the bed, gently wipes the moist curls away from her temple and places a cold, wet cloth on her forehead. As he places the warm cloth he hat taken from her brow back inside the washbasin.

"It's alright, lass. Tis naught but a dream." Stowe whispers quietly as he drips a few drops of laudanum into the cavern of her slightly open mouth. He worries; the fever had indeed come back like the nurse had informed him earlier. He vacates the room, turns back into the hallway and shouts for the guards to fetch a nurse. His patient urgently needs a cold bath in order to subdue the fever. Then he returns to the pirate lady, sees the black tattooed dragon on her forearm, hiding the branded "P" that's underneath and decides there and then that he will do everything it takes to save this woman's life. And if she lives, she will truly live. Freely. He _will_ save her life, whether she's an outlaw or not.

T.B.C.

Posted: 20-12-2011


End file.
